


Nobody Said It Was Easy

by Amaria_Anna_D



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Kid Fic, M/M, Minor other pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-09-28 15:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10126127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amaria_Anna_D/pseuds/Amaria_Anna_D
Summary: Foggy Nelson isn't exactly thrilled when his mother volunteers him to watch Jack Murdock's son, Matt, but after meeting the kid, he knows that he's made a friend for life. As the boys grow up, feelings and bonds change. Foggy begins to wonder if maybe he has a chance for more.Based on Iraya's amazing comic Baby Crush.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First of all a HUGE thank you to Iraya for letting me play in her sandbox, so to speak. I have had so much fun with this so far and hope to continue to do so. Secondly, even though there are going to be mentions of unrequited crushes that kids have on adults in this fic--THERE WILL BE NO SEXUAL CONTACT WITH MINORS IN THIS FIC.

He didn’t have a choice. If there was one thing that everyone who knew his mom would agree on, it was that when she got an idea in her head, it stuck and anyone around her better get on board with that idea or else. In this case, said idea turned out to be that Foggy would babysit for free for Mr. Murdock. Just about everyone in the neighborhood had heard about what happened to his son. It wasn’t every day a kid got his eyes knocked out saving a man’s life. Foggy assumed that most other people’s moms who were feeling helpful maybe sent over a batch of cookies or a casserole to the Murdocks. Not his mom. She decided to send over her son instead—her son who had never so much as cat-sat for someone or been trusted to water someones ferns, nonetheless. Naturally, the idea that Foggy wasn’t exactly the best choice to take care of a newly blind nine year old wasn’t that big of a deal to his mom.

She eyed him from where she stood at the sink and pointed a suds covered finger at him. “Franklin Nelson you will do as I say! There is no reason why you can’t simply go over there tomorrow night and keep an eye on that boy.”

“But you wouldn’t even trust me to watch Candace!” he cried in a last ditch effort.

“You and your sister having been butting heads since the day she came out of the womb. And besides, you are only one year older than your sister,” she added placidly as she wiped hands on a towel. “It’s only for one night. I’m sure you and Matt will get along just fine.”

With a heavy sigh, Foggy began drying the stack of plates sitting in the rack. Fighting wouldn’t do him much good, and at this point, it was better to cut his losses and move on. “Yeah. I guess.”

And so the next evening Foggy grudgingly walked to the Murdocks apartment a few blocks away. Mr. Murdock met him in the hallway of their building. Having never seen the boxer up close before, the guy was a hell of a lot more intimidating than Foggy’d expected. The term “middleweight” was damn deceptive. “Battlin’ Jack” Murdock was several inches taller than Foggy and his arms looked like fucking tree trunks. Even chubby as he was, Foggy had little doubt the boxer could tear him in half if the mood struck him. Thankfully, the guy had other things in mind besides kicking a fat fourteen year-old’s ass. He wasn’t that old, but his light blue eyes just looked so damn tired.

“So you’re Anna’s kid,” he said giving Foggy a once over. He knew what the older man was seeing wasn’t very impressive; a short, fat teen with shaggy blonde hair and a few zits wearing a Smashing Pumpkins t-shirt. People assumed all the time that Foggy was a stoner, but aside from once with his old cousin, he never smoked weed and didn’t have any plans of making it a habit.

Foggy nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“She’s says you’re good with younger kids,” Mr. Murdock murmured, looking like he didn’t exactly believe it.

“I am,” Foggy confirmed.

It wasn’t a lie, either. Despite his lack of actual babysitting experience, there was something about him that little kids always seemed to gravitate towards. Maybe they could sense that he was too laid back to say no when they demanded piggyback rides, or that they could tell that Foggy still had an affection for Pokemon cards and Cartoon Network. Whatever it was, Foggy usually ended up being the most popular person at picnics and get-togethers where there were kids around.

Mr. Murdock crossed his arms over his chest. “Ever been around a blind person before?”

Foggy shook his head.

For a moment, he held onto a vain hope that the older man would send him packing, but then Mr. Murdock let out a loud sigh and raked a hand through his light brown hair. Mr. Murdock hooked a thumb up the stairwell. “C’mon up then,” he said. “Rule number one: _everything_ stays exactly where it belongs. No half open doors. No chairs pulled out of place. If you move something put it back in the same place. Rule number two: don’t go pushin’ and pullin’ Matty around. He’s been doing good around the apartment, and if he needs your help, he’ll ask for it. Also, don’t expect Matty to be too chatty tonight. Kid’s more than little pissed off at me. Don’t take it personal.”

“I won’t,” Foggy agreed. He pulled self-consciously at the strap of his backpack as Mr. Murdock opened the door.

The apartment was shabby and small, but impeccably neat. They walked into a galley kitchen so narrow that Foggy didn’t doubt Mr. Murdock could put his palms on either wall if he reached out. Through the kitchen, there was a somewhat larger living room with a mismatched loveseat and lazyboy. Foggy could see a short hallway leading from the far end. The bathroom door was open and he could see the seventies-gold tile inside. He assumed the doors to either side lead to the bedrooms.

“In his room?” Foggy asked upon noticing that the one thing he didn’t see in the place was Matt Murdock.

Jack nodded and motioned for Foggy to follow him once more. He knocked gently on the door frame before opening the door a crack. “Hey, Matty. Franklin’s here, and I’m gonna head out.”

Foggy hung back in the doorway awkwardly as Mr. Murdock pressed a kiss to his son’s dark hair. The boxer stared the teenager down one more time before squeezing by him. “There’s a casserole in the fridge that just needs heated up. I left a list of numbers on the fridge if you need anything.”

Nodding mutely, Foggy watched Mr. Murdock’s retreating form down the hall before turning his attention back Matt. The kid was sitting indian-style on the bed with a set of of headphones dangling around his neck and a disc-man in his hands. He was skinny and pale with longish hair that hung down over his forehead to the top of a pair of dark glasses that covered his eyes. Foggy wondered fleetingly if the kid still even had eyes, but the macabre thought was a bit unsettling so he pushed it aside.

“Hi, Matt,” he said, forcing a smile. “I’m Foggy—at least that’s what everyone calls me.”

“Hi,” the kid replied softly. His blank expression kind of threw Foggy for a loop, and he struggled for something... _anything_ to say.

Foggy’s eyes quickly scanned the room. Like the rest of the apartment, his room was tiny and shabby but perfectly neat—probably by necessity. The single bed where Matt was seated was pushed up against the corner wall with a scuffed up nightstand butted against it. A few posters and hand drawn pictures adorned the walls—one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and a couple of others that had obviously been used to promote his dad’s fights. Finally, Foggy’s gaze landed on a small bookshelf. The shelves themselves were crammed with books that the kid couldn’t read himself anymore, but on top there was a well worn baseball glove and a very familiar action figure. Crossing the room, Foggy plucked the figure from its spot. “I had one of these when I was a kid,” he muttered, staring at the small plastic form.

“One of what?” The words were spoken so softly that Foggy almost didn’t hear them, but the weight of them hit him like a freight train.

Resisting the urge to smack himself in the forehead for being so stupid, Foggy bit his lip. “Your Cap figure. I still have mine somewhere, I think.”

Matt shrugged. “I don’t play with it anymore.”

“Why not?” Foggy asked. He decided to push his luck a little and took a seat on the edge of the bed. Matt startled a little, but didn’t move.

“I’m not a kid anymore.” Matt’s jaw settled into a firm line, and for the first time, Foggy could see a bit of his father in the kid. He was so serious that it almost made Foggy laugh.

Turning his attention back to the miniature figure in his hands, Foggy brought the Captain’s hand up in the oh-so-famous salute. “There’s nothing wrong with being a kid. Trust me, you may even miss it someday,” he said with a bit of a snort. He turned his attention back to the figure. “So what happened to Cap’s shield?”

Again, the younger boy shrugged. “Got him at the thrift shop. He didn’t have one when I got him.”

Foggy felt guilty for asking and for having it a million times easier than Matt obviously had, but at least the kid was talking to him so he pushed on. “Ya know, I always liked Bucky better.”

“How come?” Matt asked, showing real curiosity for the first time. His head cocked towards where Foggy sat, and it almost seemed like the kid was looking at him.

“Because! I dunno. He wasn’t all super powered and stuff. I mean, don’t get me wrong Captain America is _awesome_ and everything, but Bucky was so much cooler to me. I kinda always liked the sidekicks,” Foggy admitted with a laugh. Of course, he couldn’t admit to a kid that the other reason he liked Bucky Barnes better than Steve Rogers was that he found Bucky’s darker looks more appealing. “So on to the next question to determine if we are gonna be best buds...”

“We can’t be best friends,” Matt cut in with a frown.

“How come?”

Dark eyebrows shot above the rims of his glasses in such a smart ass expression that Foggy was sure that cockiness was Matt’s own brand of super power. “Because you’re older,” he remarked smugly.

“Who says?” Foggy demanded. An insult from a nine year old shouldn’t have hurt, but it strangely did. “You seem pretty cool for a kid. Who says we can’t be friends?”

“No one, I guess.” Matt seemed to mull that over for a minute. “So what’s the next question?”

Foggy grinned widely. “Who’s your favorite Ninja Turtle?”

“Raphael,” Matt said without hesitation. For the first time, he almost looked like a little kid to Foggy. “He’s so cool! And I like his sais.”

“I hate to disagree with you, pal, but Michelangelo is the coolest turtle. There isn’t even a contest...”

The pair fell into a good-natured argument over the merits of each turtle for a long time before Foggy was able to convince Matt to pop in one of his turtle videos. Foggy narrated the movie for the kid. The funny thing was that Foggy was actually enjoying himself. His whole life he’d wondered what it would be like to be a real big brother. True enough, Candace was his younger sister, but from the moment she’d been able to understand that she had the innate ability to make friends that her brother lacked, she hadn’t needed a damn thing from him. But this… This felt good. Hanging out with Matt and feeling big brotherly made him not so ashamed about being fourteen and still liking Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. He almost felt cool.

By the time Mr. Murdock got home, Foggy had managed to herd Matt into bed and fallen asleep himself with the TV still on. Waking up to “Battlin’ Jack” looming over him, almost sent Foggy sprawling from the recliner, but that was neither here nor there. Mr. Murdock’s face was swollen and still bleeding through stitches that even Foggy tell had been shittily done. The boxer looked exhausted more than anything. “How’d it go?” he asked through split lips.

“Good,” Foggy said, still shaking the last of the sleep from his head. “We watched the turtles movies.”

Mr. Murdock let out an inarticulate snort. In the dim light of the apartment, it was impossible to tell if he was pleased or not. “It’s late,” he said. “I told your mom that I’d walk you home if I got home late.”

“You don’t have to,” the teen argued, knowing it was useless even as the words were out of his mouth. There were somethings parents were dead set on, and this appeared to be one of those things.

They walked the mostly deserted streets of Hell’s Kitchen, and Foggy wouldn’t admit out loud that he was glad for the boxer’s presence. Foggy’s family lived on the ‘nicer’ side of the Kitchen where it was improbable that you’d walk by a drug deal or a hooker finding a customer, but they weren’t on the ‘nicer’ side of the Kitchen now. It was impossible to miss the looks that Mr. Murdock gave some of the people walking by them. Deciphering his expression as a warning didn’t exactly take a rocket scientist and thankfully everyone on the receiving end of one of his looks seemed to step away a little quicker. Stopping just shy of the steps leading into the Nelson’s townhouse, Mr. Murdock shoved his hands in his pocket and fished something out. He held out his hand, and when Foggy shook it, he could feel the edges of a folded bill.

“You don’t have to pay me, Mr. Murdock,” Foggy blurted out.

Mr. Murdock’s one cheek inched up just a bit. “That so?”

Foggy nodded, feeling red hot embarrassment flooding him as he suddenly realized just how good looking Mr. Murdock really was. That cocky smile changed the man. It wasn’t the first time that Foggy had realized he liked guys—not by a long shot—but it was the first time it had been an adult that he actually knew. The thought left him tongue tied, and he doubted he could argue against keeping the cash even if he tried.

“Keep the cash, kid,” Mr. Murdock said flatly. “I ain’t that broke.”

“Okay,” Foggy managed to grind out, shoving the money into his jeans. “Good night, Mr. Murdock.”

“G’night.”

Foggy watched Mr. Murdock’s leather clad shoulders move off into the streetlights for just a moment before he hurried up the steps.

His mom was snoring on the couch when he opened the door. She roused when the door closed behind him, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out she’d been waiting up for him. Yawning, she got up and leaned on the useless decorative post that separated the living room from hallway as he kicked off his shoes. “Did you have a good night, sweetie?” she asked.

Still feeling a bit out of sorts, Foggy bobbed his head. “Matt’s a nice kid.”

“I told you it would be all right,” she gloated. She ruffled his hair lightly in that way that Foggy absolutely hated. “I saved you a plate of meatloaf.”

“S’okay, Mom. I ate chicken casserole at the Murdocks’ place,” he replied as he started up the stairs, and then he stopped mid-step as an idea struck him. “Hey, Mom, do you know where my old Cap action figure got to?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, his mom raised a brow. “Why?”

The action figures and toys had been a bit of a battleground between them a few years back. Foggy’d had enough action figures to fill a toy store. Most of them had come as birthday presents from his grandparents or were purchased with the money that he got every holiday from a source none of them liked to talk about. Still, he had more figures and Legos than his room could hold. Even as a kid, he had a feeling that when a toy mysteriously went “missing” that his mother was behind it. When he’d turned twelve, he’d gotten to the point where he no longer played with the toys, but refused to get rid of them. The argument that followed had been pretty epic, but a bargain had been struck. His favorites were still proudly displayed on his shelves—including his near mint Bucky figure—while the ones he was sentimental about had been hauled off for safekeeping and the rest were donated. On one hand, Foggy didn’t want to actually admit what he was planning to his mother, but on the other hand, he had no idea where in the maze of boxes and totes in their basement the damn thing would be.

“Matt’s Captain America figure lost its shield. I was thinking maybe I could take the one off mine,” he explained bashfully.

His mom’s eyes got teary, and she clapped her hand over her mouth. It was what she did whenever her kids did something particularly awesome, but at the moment Foggy wasn’t being awesome. He wasn’t really sure what he was being even. All he knew was that he _really_ wanted Matt’s Cap figure to have a shield. Without a word, his mom headed down the hall to the basement door and padded down the stairs in her bare feet. Foggy followed in her wake not exactly sure what to say. He watched as she pulled a small tote off of one of the shelves and handed it to him.

“I am so proud of the man you’re becoming,” she said, laying a hand lightly on his cheek.

Foggy was dead tired as he pulled himself up both flights of stairs, but didn’t go to bed straight away when he was in his room. Instead, he sat cross legged on the floor, sorting through the toys. He found his initial prize almost instantly and snagged the shield from Cap’s tiny plastic grasp, but then he noticed his old turtle figures and a few other things.

The next day, Foggy was again walking down the street to the Murdocks’ apartment building. He felt just as awkward being there the second time as he did the first, but for an entirely different reason. His trembling fingers hit the buzzer.

“Who is it?” Mr. Murdock’s voice vibrated from the box.

“Foggy Nelson, sir. I brought a couple of things that I though Matt might like,” he said, fighting the urge to turn tail and run.

The door unlocked noisily, and Foggy made his way inside. Mr. Murdock had the door cracked open when he got upstairs, so Foggy let himself inside.

“Hey, Mr. Murdock. I hope you don’t mind me dropping by,” Foggy murmured, trying desperately not to look at the older man who was wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts as he stood at the counter making a sandwich. He saw other guys without their shirts on in the locker room all of the damned time, but none of the guys he went to school with looked like Mr. Murdock did.

“Not at all,” Mr. Murdock said, looking up from the jar of mayo he was scraping at. “Matty’s in his room. But on your way out I have something to ask you, if you don’t mind waiting.”

Foggy shook his head quickly and hurried back the hall. The door was open, and he could see Matt sitting on the floor trailing his fingers over the page of an open book. Matt’s head swiveled towards the door. “Hey, pal,” Foggy began before entering. “It’s Foggy.”

Matt’s face brightened. “Hey!”

Foggy stripped off his backpack and unzipped it. “I brought you a couple of things.”

“What is it?”

“See for yourself.” Foggy pulled out the shield from his bag and placed it in Matt’s hands. He watched as small hands moved over the bit of plastic for a moment before it hit Matt what he was holding.

“Cap’s shield!” He cried with an enormous grin.

“That’s not all.” Foggy dumped the bag on the floor.

“What else?” Matt asked excitedly.

Foggy couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “You tell me! I’m old, remember? I probably forgot what about half this stuff is.”

Matt laughed. “Even I know fourteen’s not old,” he snarked.

All in all, Foggy had brought Matt Captain America’s shield and motorcycle, Raphael, Shredder, Batman, and one other figure. Matt shocked the hell out of Foggy by being able to distinguish all of them except for the last one. He ran his fingers over the figure’s chest and cape before hazarding a guess. “Superman?”

“Nope,” Foggy corrected. “Even better! That’s Sentry.”

That dubious brow of Matt’s shot up again. “Who’s Sentry? And if he’s better than Superman, how come I haven’t heard of him.”

A deep chuckle from the doorway caught Foggy off guard. “Matty, I’m surprised Foggy even knows who Sentry is.” Mr. Murdock crossed the room and plopped down on the floor beside the boys. “Sentry is from way back when I was a kid.”

“So he’s like super-duper old then, huh, Dad?” Matt asked with a shit eating grin.

Mr. Murdock laughed again and playfully tapped his knuckles against Matt’s shoulder. “You better watch it, kid. This is Battlin’ Jack you’re talkin’ to.”

Foggy couldn’t help but laugh at the pair. “Actually, Sentry’s even older than your dad, Matt. He goes the whole way back to when my grandpa was a kid.”

Foggy and Mr. Murdock took turns educating Matt about the greatest superhero ever, but to no avail. In the end, the kid plucked his Cap figure from its resting place and secured the new shield into his grasp before setting him over the motorcycle. “Sentry doesn’t sound bad, but he’s not as good as Cap. Nobody’s as good as Captain America, because Captain America was real,” he announced happily.

They found safe homes of the shelves for Matt’s new toys before Foggy decided it was time to head home. Mr. Murdock didn’t offer to walk him back, but he did follow Foggy out to the front of the building.

“That was a nice thing you did, givin’ Matty those toys,” Mr. Murdock said when they were safely out of ear shot.

Foggy shrugged and pushed a hunk of blond hair back under his baseball cap. “I don’t play with them anymore, so...”

“Still...” Mr. Murdock gave him a hard look. “You know none of this has been easy for Matty. It’s a lot even for me, but that kid doesn’t ever stop surprising me. It’s just… Christ, I’m not any good at this stuff. Anyway, Matty’s never been what you could call a popular kid, and now this. I think he’s been lonely. This morning though, even before you came over, Matty didn’t shut up about how much fun he had last night. Point is, think you could stand to watch him every now and again for me?”

Grinning, Foggy nodded. “I’d like that, actually. Matt seems like a cool kid.”

“Don’t have to tell me that. Well, Foggy, whattya say to comin’ over next Friday night?”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am blown away by the support you guys have given me. Seriously, your comments and this story kept me moving today when I just wanted to sit down and cry. Hopefully, I am able to keep up the pace and do justice to the AMAZING source material. If you haven't read it yet, go check out Baby Crush by Iraya--the inspiration for this fic.

Foggy wasn’t big on change, he decided as he stacked yet another box onto the growing stack in the entry hall. Most of his friends were chomping at the bit to get out of their parents’ houses and into their dorms, but he just felt emptier and emptier with each box he filled. Of course, there was a limit to just how much he was going to be taking with him to school, and each box had been packed with careful consideration for what he actually would want or need and what would just take up space. The choices only got harder as he went. He couldn’t help the irrational want to pick up his entire room… no, his entire house and move it along with him, but that wasn’t how these things worked. He almost wished that he hadn’t been accepted to college at all. No, he admitted to himself, that wasn’t true at all. He was glad he was going to college, but he just didn’t feel ready for it yet.

“Is that the last of it?” Dad asked, eying the tower of boxes. “I don’t think much more will fit in the car.”

“Pretty much done,” Foggy said, fighting the urge to say that he had changed his mind and didn’t want to go at all.

Foggy’s distress must have made it into his face because the elder Nelson opened his mouth briefly like he was going to give some kind of sagely dad advice. He’d never really been the best when it came to heart-to-heart moments, and it seemed that trend was going to continue because his jaw clamped shut quickly. His dad looked at the stack again and nodded his approval before heading back the hall silently.

Just as soon as Foggy had turned to go back up the stairs and grab another box, the doorbell rang behind him. Relief surged through him so much that his whole body almost sagged. He knew exactly who was behind the door. While most guys he knew were going to spend their last nights at home partying or hanging out with their high school friends, Foggy had a very different plan for his. He opened the door to reveal Matt and his dad standing on the front steps.

Jack’s wide grin was a welcome sight. “Hey there, college man,” he said, peering in the hall as he stepped inside with Matt in-tow. “Looks like you’re all set to go.”

“Almost,” Foggy replied, faking a smile. His eyes drifted to Matt who was half-hiding behind his dad with a sullen expression across his face. He almost looked as sad as the day Foggy met him, and the thought broke his heart a little. “Hey, pal. Ready for one last Star Trek marathon?”

Matt nodded and gave a smile as fake as Foggy’s own. “Sure.”

“You two keep outta trouble for once,” Jack said ruffling his son’s hair.

“He starts it!” Matt whined as he straightened his hair irritably.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Jack lied, winking at Foggy. Years ago, Jack Murdock winking at him would have melted Foggy into a puddle of goo on the spot, but he’d mostly gotten over his crush on Matt’s dad. Now, it only made Foggy blush a little.

Jack pressed a kiss on his son’s forehead and headed for the door.

Over the last three years, Matt had been in the Nelson household enough times that he usually was able to navigate mostly on his own, but with the giant stack of boxes in the entry way, Foggy thought it was safer to guide Matt to the stairway. The relationship between Foggy and Matt was kind of an odd one. Foggy still “babysat” for Jack just about every week, but it never really felt like Foggy was babysitting, and he kinda felt bad that Jack insisted on paying him for it. He’d always thought of it more like hanging out with his surrogate baby brother—or maybe even just a pint-sized friend. For a twelve year old, Matt was much more mature than he probably should be, and the argument could be made that Foggy was maybe a little immature for his age. If Foggy were completely honest, he’d say Matt was his best friend, but it sounded a little weird for a seventeen year old guy who was on his way to college to say that he loved hanging around a middle school kid. It was more normal to say that Matt was just the kid Foggy babysat and that was where he usually left it.

Once they were in Foggy’s room, he let Matt go at the door so he could orient himself. Foggy’d actually been super careful to keep the big things relatively unmoved just for Matt’s sake. The younger boy slipped his bag off of his shoulder and folded his cane before sinking to his usual place on Foggy’s worn old gaming chair. “I can’t believe you leave tomorrow,” he said glumly.

“Yeah me either, buddy. Wanna hear a secret?”

Matt’s mouth quirked up sarcastically. “If I do or don’t, you wanna tell me anyway.”

“Right,” Foggy drawled, rolling his eyes. He plopped down in the bean bag next to Matt. “I’m _really_ nervous.”

“You are? But college is supposed to be so cool,” Matt added, sounding so much like everyone else as he rocked in the ‘C’ shaped seat.

“Yeah, it is.”

Frowning, Matt stopped rocking the gaming chair suddenly.“Wait. You’re really serious, aren’t you?”

Without thinking, Foggy nodded. “Yeah...just nodded, by the way. And I am serious!”

“I guess that makes sense,” the kid said, biting his lip. “It’s probably even a little scary.”

“It is!” It felt good to say those words and have someone take him seriously without rolling their eyes or making some comment about how hot the girls on campus were going to be. His friends his own age hadn’t seemed too concerned about leaving home, and his parents were going on and on about how nervous _they_ were about what was going to happen with Candace leaving in less than a year too. Matt was the only one who seemed even just the tiniest bit nervous for him.

“I don’t even like it when Dad talks about sending me away to school,” Matt commiserated. “I guess some people just don’t like change.”

“Thank you!” Foggy cried out happily. “I think they should just give me a degree while I stay here and watch Star Trek with you, buddy.”

Matt laughed and started rocking the chair again. “I don’t think you can get your law degree like that.”

“Shows what you know, kid.” Foggy reached out and tousled Matt’s hair, earning him a surprisingly well placed punch in the arm. “Want me to make us some popcorn?”

“Yep! I brought M&M’s and Starbursts,” Matt announced proudly as he reached for his bag.

They ended up eating four bags of popcorn on top of the pounds of candy that Matt had brought. For one scrawny kid, Matt put more than his fair share of the junk food away, and it was no surprise when he ended up leaning back with his hand on his stomach groaning by the time they finished their sixth episode of the original Star Trek series. Foggy laughed and shoved the last handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“That’s just pathetic, Matty,” he joked. “I mean, what are you going to do this Halloween when I’m not here to help you eat your candy.”

“Dad does a good enough job of that when you aren’t around anyway,” the younger boy mock-groaned. Suddenly, he frowned. “Besides, I might be in school then anyway.”

Foggy’s brain raced back to what Matt had said about being nervous when Jack brought up residential school. At the time, he’d been to caught up in his own bullshit to think much on it. “You’re dad’s on you about it again?”

Matt nodded. “We’re driving out there next week to take a tour. I don’t wanna go.”

Not long after starting his regular job babysitting Matt, Jack had started trying to get Matt set up at NYS School for the Blind. Before meeting Matt, Foggy hadn’t given much thought to just how tough it was for a blind kid to be mainstreamed into a public school—much less one like the one Matt attended that already had its limits stretched to the max. Though he’d already missed out on a year of school while he recovered and started learning Braille, Matt had managed to make up almost a full year’s worth of learning and get back on track with his classmates. That said, the school and his teachers weren’t always the most helpful. There were times when Matt just seemed to fall through the cracks. He was having a hard time with math in particular now that the class was working on basic geometry. Foggy had taken it upon himself to help Matt with his homework more than once, and it was obvious even to him that Matt _could_ keep up with the rest of the kids—or hell, even pass them up—if he was only given a little bit more support. A couple of sessions a week with a Braille specialist that came in to work with him and the occasional support of a T.A. wasn’t exactly cutting it. Foggy didn’t question why Jack would be so eager to get Matt into a program that would be more tailored to his needs. Still, he didn’t question why Matt wouldn’t want to have to live five days a week at a school more than a six hour drive away from his home either.

Foggy paused the video and scooted his bean bag closer to where Matt sat. “Your dad only wants what’s best for you, but you already know that, Matt.”

The blind boy nodded and tucked his face in the crook of his arms. It was a habit of Matt’s to hide his face when he wasn’t sure if he was doing a good job of covering up his emotions. In the whole time Foggy had known him, he’d never seen the kid cry, but there had been a lot of times when he knew Matt wanted to. More than once, Foggy had considered telling Matt that he still cried from time to time, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Instead, he reached out and rubbed the boy’s shoulders.

“Plus, your dad already told you about all of the cool stuff they do at the school. Even you admitted that beep baseball sounds pretty awesome,” Foggy reminded him.

The mention of beep baseball got Matt to half-untuck his face. “It does.”

While Foggy lived and died by his beloved Rangers and hockey in general, Matt was a baseball guy. Jack hadn’t let the kid play for some reason before the accident, and after well… But that didn’t mean that Matt didn’t love the sport. In the summers, Matt could often be found sitting on the fire escape listening to a Yankees game on the radio. When Jack had first broached the topic of the school for the blind, he’d known exactly what bait to use. The lure of an adaptive version of the game he loved so much using an audible ball and upright bases was pretty much the only thing that got Matt to even half listen to the idea. Since then, Matt had brought the sport up a couple of times since.

“Whattya say we make a promise?” Foggy suggested.

“What kind of promise?” Matt lifted his head out of his arm and cocked his head to the side.

“You were right earlier, buddy; change can suck. I promise that I will always be there to listen if you get nervous or scared. You know my new cell number by heart now, right? If I do that, do you think you can promise to be there to listen to me if I get scared?” Foggy’s chest felt tight as he spoke, but he knew they both needed this.

Matt nodded slowly, and then the tears started sliding down his pale cheeks. “But I’m gonna miss you so much!”

“I know, pal.” Foggy pulled the kid into a tight hug. He felt his own eyes prickling but ignored it. “But I promise I’ll always just be a phone call away. Anytime. Day or night—even some kind of weird time travel shit. I’m always your best friend.”

“Really?” Matt asked, sniffling a bit. He still had his face buried in Foggy’s chest and his voice was a bit muffled. The result was a little funny, but the teen knew better than to laugh right then.

“Really,” Foggy confirmed. “So are you gonna leave a guy hanging? Is it a promise or what, Murdock?”

Matt disentangled himself and used his sleeve to wipe his eyes. “It’s a promise, Nelson.”

In the morning, Foggy’s mom made chocolate chip pancakes and bacon—a favorite of both boys. Neither Foggy nor Matt were really morning people and having stayed up all night watching their favorite TOS episodes hadn’t improved upon that. They both sat side by side digging into their meals quietly. After Matt’s tears and their promise, they hadn’t talked a whole lot about anything other than their usual TOS (Foggy’s pick) versus Next Generation (Matt’s choice) debate that had been going on for the last year, and it didn’t seem like either of them wanted to take the chance of getting all mushy again.

Foggy’s sister, Candace waltzed into the kitchen just after they had split the last pancake. She’d thankfully been away at a friend’s house the night before. She shot her brother a rude face as she walked in. “I was hoping you’d be gone already,” she snarked, pouring herself a glass of juice.

“Not all of your wishes come true, princess,” Foggy shot back, rolling his eyes.

“If they did, I’d be an only child.” She punctuated the statement by curling her lip at him before turning to Matt who seemed to be enjoying their banter. “Morning, Matty. Did my dork brother keep you up all night watching Nerd-Trek?”

Matt grinned. He had a bit of chocolate smeared above his lip that no one was going to mention. “Yep! It was great! Even if we did watch the boring old stuff.”

Candace laughed. Even she wasn’t immune to Matt’s charm. She looped an arm around his shoulders and gave him a light hug. “You poor, sweet child, you have no idea that you deserve so much better.”

“Foggy’s pretty cool,” Matt argued, still grinning. “Besides, it’s better than that lame movie you made us watch the last time.”

“Hey! _She’s All That_ is going to be a classic.”

Jack showed up to get Matt not long after Candace came home. He immediately joined Foggy and his dad in loading up the Nelson’s beat up old Subaru. It made Foggy chuckle when his dad decided to try picking up two totes at once the way Jack did and then immediately started complaining about his back. With the three of them working, the car was loaded a lot faster than Foggy would have liked. His gaze drifted to where Matt was sitting on the back steps with Candace. The kid looked half-heartbroken already, and Foggy was dreading saying goodbye more than ever.

A hand appeared on Foggy’s shoulder, and he jumped a little at Jack’s sudden appearance. “The kid’s gonna miss you like hell,” he said softly, “but he’ll live. Don’t worry too much on his account. Growing up has to happen sooner or later.”

“I’m gonna miss him like hell, too,” Foggy admitted, giving Jack a sidelong glance. “I’m gonna miss home.”

“I know you will. I was about your age when I moved outta my parents place. Did you know I trained out in California for a bit?” the older man asked, rubbing at his stubble thoughtfully. He didn’t wait for Foggy to answer. “Anyway, I was a total shit about it, you know. Told my old man I wasn’t comin’ back and everything. Truth is, I ran back with my tail between my legs less than six months later. Livin’ out there scared the shit out of me. I missed New York and my friends and family too much. I wanted to come home, but my dad wasn’t about to let me give up that easy. He gave me two days to crash on the couch while I found a day job and an apartment.” He stopped long enough to give Foggy a hard look. “You’ll take to this growing up shit better than I did. Wanna know why?”

Half-amused at Jack’s typical candor, Foggy asked: “why?”

“Because you aren’t a cocky asshole like I was when I was a kid. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and you already know you have a safe place to land if shit goes south.” Jack crossed his arms over his chest like he did anytime he wasn’t even going to hear an argument.

“Thanks,” Foggy said, taking a deep breath.

“You’d better go say goodbye to Matty. This isn’t gonna be fun for either of you—not fun for me, either come to think of it.” Jack gave Foggy an affectionate clap on the back. “I’m gonna miss you, kid. You better study your ass off.”

“I will,” the teen promised.

Foggy felt like there was lead in his shoes as he walked over to the back steps. He gave his sister a sharp look, and for once in her life Candace took a hint and made herself scarce. Sinking onto the step beside Matt, Foggy tried to untie his tongue from the knot it had turned into.

“Candace says you’re taking your Bucky figure to college with you,” Matt smirked.

Foggy laughed, grateful for the lightened mood. He nudged Matt’s arm lightly. “Of course, I’m taking Bucky with me! Admit it, you’re gonna take Cap when the time comes, aren’t you?”

“Nope!” The corners of Matt’s lips twitched too much for him to lie convincingly.

“I call total B.S.,” the older boy said, still laughing. “And if you are ever going to get through law school and become an awesome enough lawyer to be my partner, you are going to have to learn to tell a lie.”

“What if we only defend innocent people?” Matt prodded.

“It’s the guilty ones that pay the big bucks, and that is why most people become lawyers in the first place.” They were both stretching this out, and Foggy was having a hell of a time stopping it, so he kept babbling on. “Why else would we become lawyers?”

“Avocados!” Matt blurted out randomly.

“What?” Foggy demanded, laughing so hard his chest actually hurt.

“That’s ‘lawyers’ in Spanish...I think.”

“Dude, I am shaking my head so hard at you right now,” Foggy told him. “An avocado is some kind of green, mooshy fruit-thing. ‘Abogado’ is lawyer in Spanish. What kind of crap Spanish are they teaching you in the fifth grade anyway?”

Foggy’s dad cleared his throat harshly from where he stood near the car, and both boys suddenly snapped out of their good moods. It was Matt who managed to recover first.

“So I guess you have to get going,” he said with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, I do,” Foggy agreed. “But I meant it last night. Best buds forever, and someday the best damn ‘avocados’ ever.”

Matt almost smiled. “Best damn avocados ever.”

It was a good thing they didn’t hug, because Foggy wasn’t sure he could have held it together. Instead, he put his hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Be good, kid.”

“See you later, Foggy,” Matt returned, his voice sounding tight.

Once he was in the back seat of the car beside Candace, he dared to look over his shoulder at Jack and Matt walking down the sidewalk. Candace gave him an almost sympathetic look from over her magazine. “I told Jack that I’d watch Matt for him if he ever needed it,” she murmured. Despite her blasé tone, she was actually being a human being for once and Foggy appreciated it.

He nodded. “I hope you like Next Generation, sis. You’re gonna be narrating a lot of it.”

She rolled her eyes at him dramatically. “You are such a nerd. I’m totally going to have to educate that kid on how not to act like you.”


	3. Chapter 3

For as long as Foggy could remember, he’d always been a little jealous of his sister. The funny part was that it was mainly because they were so similar that it bothered him, not because they were so different. They were both Nelsons, through and through; a little under average height, a little over average weight, perfectly average looks, blonde haired, blue eyed, and with absolutely no filter between their brains and mouths. By all accounts, they should have been more or less equals. Except they weren’t. Candace somehow managed to wear her extra weight like some kind of accessory. Her large breasts, full thighs, and thick waist made her look curvy and inviting to the guys she picked up. Foggy was just fat. When Candace let her mouth run away, it somehow came off charming and funny. When Foggy did it, he was just awkward. As if to perfectly illustrate the differences between them Candace was twirling in front of her mirror in a tiny pink bikini, while Foggy was shuddering at the thought of even taking his shirt off at the beach. If he hadn’t stopped being jealous of his little sister after twenty-three years on the planet, he didn’t think he ever would.

Their parents had dropped a bomb on them earlier that summer by telling them that they were going to sell off their part of the timeshare on the Jersey shore. The Jersey house had been the Nelson vacay spot since Foggy was still in diapers. True, it had been a couple of years since Candace and his schedule jived enough that the full Nelson clan had been able to make it out for the traditional Fourth of July week, but somehow selling the timeshare just felt wrong to Foggy. He accepted that they had out grown the place, even if he didn’t like the idea. For the final hurrah on the shore, his parents had suggested that Candace and Foggy bring a friend.

In Candace’s case, the choice had been a no-brainer and she was bringing her proclaimed “sister from another mister” Becky. Foggy had a little more trouble thinking up who to bring. His roommate, Marci, had given him big, blue puppy eyes when he’d mentioned the trip, but he couldn’t see his razor-tongued roomie fitting in with his family. Truth was, his mind immediately had went to Matt when the topic had been brought up, but it had taken him a while to work up the courage to call his old friend.

College and life had put a lot of distance between Matt and Foggy—both figuratively and literally. In the beginning, Matt had called Foggy weekly. Especially in the first few weeks away from home, Foggy had lived for those calls practically. But then, Foggy started getting more and more acclimated to college life. He went to parties, met girls (and guys), and even went to to some bars. His life started to open up before him. Both his social and academic lives got in the way of always answering that call right away. And things had started changing for Matt, too. He’d gone to NYS School for the Blind later that same fall. Suddenly, Matt had what seemed like a million new friends and was enjoying all of the outings and activities the school offered for their students—Matt’s precious beep baseball included. After a while, that weekly call became a monthly call. And now that Foggy was starting his second year at Columbia law and Matt was gearing up for his first year of college, those calls seemed to come even slower than that. They hadn’t even seen each other in just over two years. Much like the house on the shore, Foggy was afraid he was going to loose his best friend if he didn’t act quick.

Thankfully, when Foggy called Matt with the offer, he’d readily agreed. He’d even laughingly asked if Foggy was sure he wanted to bring “that blind kid you used to babysit.” The perceived brush off had stung more than Foggy wanted to admit, but he was anxious to jump-start what remained of their friendship.

Foggy had just shoved his third bottle of sunblock into his bag when he heard a car door slam in the drive below. He looked out his window and it seemed like the Earth stopped spinning. Sure enough, he spotted Jack getting out of the cab with a man holding onto his arm. But there was no way that guy with him was scrawny, little Matt Murdock. This guy was tall and athletic built with dark hair that fell perfectly and a sculpted jaw. He must have been in some kind of trance because he didn’t hear Candace come in the room until she spoke up beside him.

“Why hello, Matthew,” she leered with a faux Southern drawl, leaning on the window frame beside him.

“You’re gross,” Foggy snapped. “We baby sat that kid!”

Candace laughed and shrugged. “And he grew up well!”

“Ugh,” her brother cried. “For Christ’s sake, put on some damn clothes.”

Candace’s amusement echoed down the hall as he raced to the stairs. Admitting that his sister was right and that Matt had grown up ‘well’ would have been an abomination. Instead, he tried to convince himself in the thirty seconds that it took him to get down stairs that what he’d seen had been some kind of mirage. Opening the door dismantled that theory. If anything, Matt was even better looking up close.

“Hey,” Foggy managed to say, hoping he didn’t sound half as awkward as he felt.

“Foggy!” Matt beamed. He let go of his dad’s arm and took a few steps forward with his arms wide open.

Hugging Matt was akin to hugging a god damn oak. He looked slender, but his body was solid muscle as it met Foggy’s decidedly flabby frame. His mind simmered at the fact that Matt had gotten buff and was now even taller than him. What right did little Matty Murdock have growing up and getting muscles and being tall? Maybe inviting Matt hadn’t been such a good idea. When the hug ended, Foggy just prayed his astonishment wasn’t too obvious.

Behind Matt, Jack stood clutching a gym bag. “You kids gonna make the old man do all the heavy lifting?”

“Sorry!” By the time Foggy reached for the bag, Matt already had his hand out for the thing. It looked like it weighed a ton, but Matt didn’t even seem to notice the extra weight as he hefted it over his shoulder.

“This ‘old man’ out lifts me almost every day at the gym, Foggy. Ignore him,” he said with a laugh. Just like Matt said, Jack looked far from old. He was built just the same as Foggy remembered him from that day he met him nine years earlier. His arms still looked like tree trunks, but there were more lines around his eyes and a more than a few grays showing in his light, brown hair. He was still so damn handsome, but somehow his son had even surpassed him.

“The kid never did learn to respect his elders, Foggy. Good luck with him for the week,” Jack snorted. “I’m gonna spend my time rearranging the damn furniture.”

Matt let out a short snort of laughter. “Just remember that I am going to be the one pushing your wheelchair to the home someday.”

While Matt and Jack said their quick goodbyes, Foggy was still trying to wrap his head around the changes his friend had gone through. The last time he’d seen Matt, the kid had still been so scrawny that a good wind could have knocked him over. His face had been long and gaunt with a light smattering of zits here and there. He’d looked nerdy. In short, he’d looked like the best friend Foggy had always known, if a bit older. _This_ _guy_ _—_ this underwear model standing in his driveway did not look anything like his best friend. The only thing that Foggy knew with any certainty at the moment was that it was going to be one damn long week in Jersey.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been here,” Matt began a bit shyly. “Mind giving me a hand?”

“Right,” Foggy said, feeling his cheeks burn.

On the way up the front steps, Matt tapped his cane against the top one. “This one’s still uneven,” he murmured with a grin. “I’ve really missed you, Foggy...even if your devotion to Kirk is a bit annoying.”

And just like that Foggy saw his best friend again…

Candace was waiting in the entryway for them. She’d put on a pair of jean shorts, but was still flaunting her tits in the pink bikini top. He’d almost consoled himself with the fact that Matt couldn’t actually see said sisterly tits when she launched herself at like a tigress to get a hug. “Oh my god, Matt! You’ve grown up!”

Matt staggered backwards a bit at the unexpected assault, but wrapped his arms around her and somehow even tipped her off the ground. “That does tend to happen, doesn’t it?” he teased, setting her back on the ground.

“I always knew you’d grow up to be a hottie,” she flirted back. “It’s good to see that your dad’s good genes beat out my brother’s bad influence.”

“Hey,” Foggy chimed in. “I was a _great_ influence.”

“You were,” Matt agreed. There was something in the way that he smiled that made Foggy’s gut clench uncomfortably.

“Foggy told me you decided to go pre-law,” Candace continued.

“I did. And I hear you’re in med school,” he said.

Candace had opened her mouth to speak—probably brag about the cutting edge hospital she was going to be doing her internship at—when their dad appeared in the hallway. “Nelsons and Murdock, I am sure there is a ton of catching up for you to do, but for the love of god can we do it in the car?”

“Ted!” his mom admonished from behind him. “At least let’s all say ‘hello’ to Matt before you start harping on us.”

Foggy’s mom touched Matt’s arm lightly before leaning in for a hug and motherly peck on the cheek. “Hello, dear. It’s so good to see you again!”

Matt blushed a little. “It’s good to see you again, too, Mrs. Nelson. And thank you for the card for graduation. It was too much.”

“No, it wasn’t.” She touched Matt’s cheek lightly. “Ted and I are very proud of you, too.”

By now, Matt’s ears were a bright pink. He’d always been a bit shy around Foggy’s mom, and Foggy had always thought it might be because Matt had never known a mother of his own. Anna Nelson may not be the worlds’ most perfect mom, but to Foggy she would always be the world’s best mom. It always warmed his heart a little to know that some of that love had included Matt too.

“I’m gonna go grab my stuff,” Foggy announced, effectively killing the moment.

Matt cleared his throat. “I’ll help.”

There was only one bag to grab, but Foggy didn’t say anything. He figured Matt needed a way out from the Nelson women. At the top of the stairs, Matt confirmed the suspicion.

“Dude, what is your sister wearing? It felt like she was topless, and I swear to god those things have their own gravitational pull! And I even thought they were huge when I was twelve,” he whispered roughly.

Foggy let out a disgusted laugh. “Gross, Murdock. That is my sister you’re talking about!”

“Her being your sister doesn’t negate the fact that she has boobs, nor that they’re massive. Besides, how could I not notice when they’re pressed up against me?” Matt cried. He gave Foggy one of his signature shit eating grins. “That said, I didn’t say I minded.”

“Agh, there is something wrong with you man,” Foggy elbowed Matt in the ribs.

The first two days on the shore went way easier than Foggy had thought they would. The pair slipped right back into the comfortable banter they’d always had. They talked about everything and anything—school, their new friends, their plans for the future. Foggy found himself falling right back in line with Matt’s sarcasm, and Matt didn’t miss a bit even when Foggy was at his zaniest. It was almost like they’d never been apart. They spent almost the full first two days at the shore on the back deck talking or in the house’s living room watching Star Trek movies. It wasn’t until the third day when Foggy’s insecurity reared its ugly head again.

Candace and Becky had just come back to the house from the beach to grab a couple of Popsicles from the fridge when they spotted Matt and Foggy on the porch. Becky had driven herself up from Maryland the day after the Nelsons arrived. From the moment she got out of the car, Foggy had instantly understood why she was Candace’s best friend. The brunette was practically his sister’s god damn psychological twin. What his sister didn’t think of, Becky did. That included harassing Foggy and Matt into giving up their places on the porch to go down to the beach with the girls.

The instant they found the umbrella the girls had left behind to save their place, Matt began pulling his shirt off and reaching for the sunblock he’d brought in his bag. Foggy’s eyes darted to the inviting planes of Matt’s toned abs and chest before he could even stop himself, and he was far from the only one to notice. From the opposite end of their blanket, Becky stared Matt down like a starving woman at an all-you-can-eat buffet. The thought of even just the girl’s eyes on Matt was enough to make Foggy irrationally jealous, but her hands were what put him. She snagged the tube of sunblock from his hand the second Matt was about to open it.

“Let me help you with that. Can’t have a pale guy like you missing spots,” she murmured coyly.

Foggy was torn between wanting to puke and murder Becky. Matt’s response was an unreadable smile and a muttered “thanks.” It was impossible to tell if he actually wanted the girl touching him or not.

Behind him, Candace started clearing her throat. “Let’s go grab some sodas,” she urged, grabbing her brother by the arm. He let himself get pulled up the beach to the boardwalk without much fight, but he glared daggers at her the whole time.

“Seriously? You’re just going to let your cougar friend sink her claws into Matty?” he demanded, once they were out of ear shot.

“Becky is only twenty, Foggy. Two years don’t make her a cougar. Besides, Matt’s eighteen and old enough to decided who he wants to get his rocks off with. He didn’t put up much of a fight when Becky started rubbing him down,” Candace pointed out, rolling her eyes. “Relax.”

“Sorry for taking your head off,” he grumbled. Foggy didn’t feel very relaxed, but having it shoved in his face that Matt was of age and that Becky wasn’t much older did take a bit of the edge off his anger.

“S’okay, big brother. You can buy me a soda to make up for it,” she said smartly, nudging him on the arm. “And I’m not totally oblivious to how protective you are of Matt. Just remember that he did some growing up too, you know?”

Foggy was about to reply when he noticed Becky and Matt wading in waist deep in the water. He knew Matt could swim so he wasn’t ready to pounce just then, but he no sooner started to turn his attention back to his sister then a huge wave started to roll in. He watched in horror as Becky moved to brace her self for the force, but obviously didn’t tell Matt it was coming. Matt was swept off his feet and for one sickening moment, Foggy didn’t see him get back up. He was halfway back down the beach before he realized that he’d moved at all or that he’d been holding his breath. Matt emerged from the water, sputtering slightly but somehow still smiling. Becky had grabbed his arm and was cooing over him flirtatiously by the time Foggy and Candace hit the waterline.

“You okay, Matt?” Foggy asked, shooting Becky a vicious glare.

Matt nodded and pushed his hair back. His smile faded when his hands began to search in vain for his sunglasses. “Shit! Anyone see my glasses?”

Foggy and Candace each waded in a few feet to search for them, but Becky didn’t seem to bother looking at all. After a few minutes of casually scanning the shore and shallows, it was likely they were long gone. “No such luck,” Candace told him flatly.

“No problem,” Matt sighed. “Mind if we take a trip to a gift shop?”

“What’s the big deal?” Becky asked, obviously still not bothered. “You’re eyes look fine to me. We can grab you new sunglasses later.”

Rage surged through Foggy and he wanted nothing more than to tear into the little brat, but Matt started explaining first. “Just because I can’t see the sun doesn’t mean it can’t hurt my eyes, and I can’t exactly tell when to blink or turn my head all the time. Trust me, corneal burns suck,” he said lightly. If having to spell it out for the twit bothered him, it didn’t show.

“Oh! I guess that makes sense. Anyway, it’s gonna be fun to pick out some shades for you anyway.” Grabbing at his arm, Becky made a move to pull Matt up the beach, but Candace angled herself in front of them and gave her friend a harsh look.

Taking the opportunity to diffuse the situation before Matt had to once again explain something that should have been common sense or common courtesy, Foggy grabbed his bag and Matt’s cane. He touched Matt’s arm in their usual gesture that indicated Foggy was offering to guide Matt. This time, relief was evident on his face as he wormed his way out of Becky’s clutches. The guys headed up the beach first with Candace and Becky following at a distance. Foggy assumed Candace was laying into Becky for being so rude, but didn’t look back to confirm.

“Sure you’re okay, buddy?” Foggy asked softly.

Matt’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “You know it’s not the first time I’ve been dunked under water or the first stupid person I’ve dealt with.”

Guilt crept up in Foggy’s throat, but he managed to swallow it. “I know, but I guess it looked worse from where I was standing.”

“The wave or Becky?” Matt asked, a bit of humor returning to his voice.

“Both, dude.”

“I think I preferred the wave,” the blind boy quipped. Without his glasses, that mocking eye brow of his didn’t have the same effect. His hazel eyes softened the expression just enough that it was charming rather than grating. For the millionth time since he’d arrived, Foggy found himself staring at Matt with a bit of lust starting to work its way in around the edges.

Averting his gaze quickly, Foggy stared at the path in front of them. “Not a fan of curvy girls?” he asked. The whole time they’d talked this week, they hadn’t broached relationships or sex once aside from Matt’s ‘keen’ observation about Candace’s breasts.

“Not a fan of stupid girls,” Matt countered. “Curvy girls are fine.” Suddenly, he paused and his cheeks took on a pinkness that had little to do with the sun beating down on them. “I like bigger guys just fine, too.”

“Oh,” Foggy intoned, not quite understanding at first. After all, why would Matt bring up guys, unless… The final cog in his brain snapped into motion, and Foggy repeated himself as he figured it out. “OH!”

Matt’s blush deepened. “I figured you kind of knew… Actually, at one point, I thought you might even be gay.”

“What gave you that idea?” Foggy asked a bit defensively. Had his new-found attraction to Matt been that obvious?

“I thought you had a thing for my dad at one point. You used to get all shy and weird around him for the longest time,” Matt explained. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable...”

“No! Not at all,” the older boy cut in a bit too quickly. He took a deep breath to regroup. “You’re right on both accounts, actually. I just didn’t know it was that obvious. So you’re bi?”

Biting his lip, Matt shrugged stiffly. It was no secret that he was a devout Catholic. Being non-religious, that was one hurdle that Foggy never had to face, and he imagined having a faith that said you were going to Hell for loving someone must add another layer to the whole coming out process.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Foggy said, giving Matt’s arm a squeeze.

“I know,” Matt agreed. His smirk returned, and he gave a little chuckle. “Even Dad says the same thing. He even threatened to beat up a priest over it once.”

Foggy rolled his eyes. “I could see your dad doing that.”

The pair made it to the gift shop before they could delve any deeper into the topic, and the girls were suddenly on their heels. For the next half hour, Foggy watched from the sidelines as Becky and Candace used Matt as their own personal Ken doll. They shoved one pair of glasses on his face after another. Some were god awful and were nothing more than a joke. Matt laughed and obviously didn’t mind the attention. He traced the frames of a pink, heart-shaped pair before sliding them on.

“How do I look, Foggy?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“Half-gay,” Foggy teased before he could stop the words from tumbling from his lips. He instantly stilled and started trying to think of how to apologize for almost outing his best friend in public.

Thankfully, Matt only laughed and waggled his eyebrows over the frames. “So long as I only look half-gay,” he cracked back.

“There is nothing ‘half-gay’ about those,” Candace said, with an eye roll. She grabbed the glasses off his nose and held another pair against the back of his hand. “Tries these.”

The next pair turned out to be much larger than the ones Matt usually wore. They were super dark tinted aviators with silver frames. He didn’t look bad wearing them. In fact, even Foggy could objectively say that Matt looked kind of cool wearing them, but they just didn’t suit him somehow.

The girls didn’t seem to agree. Both of them were gushing over how good he looked, and Matt made his way to the counter to pay.

They spent the rest of the day splashing around in the water. Even though he hated admitting that his sister had been right, Foggy was very glad she’d forced them out of the house. It felt good to swim around with Matt and the girls. At one point, Foggy had even found himself picking Becky up and tossing her into a particularly large wave—surprisingly without any malice. Whatever Candace had said to Becky on her way up to the gift shop seemed to have done the trick, because she was pleasant for the rest of the day. By the time the sun set, they were all slightly pink-skinned and smelled like sunblock and salt.

Candace suggested that they go out that night. Becky had a fake I.D., and with a little prodding, Matt admitted that he had one tucked away in his bag too. Foggy was no hypocrite about it. He’d gotten one the very first weekend he was at college and had been drinking swiped beers from his friends’ parents’ fridges even earlier than that. Still, the idea of getting hammered with two underage kids didn’t seem like such a great idea to him. He was eternally grateful when Matt gave them an out.

“I’m not big on crowds,” Matt confessed a little sheepishly. “Mind if we sit this one out, Foggy?”

Foggy hadn’t minded one bit.

While Candace and Becky got ready to hit the bars in the indoors bathroom, Foggy and Matt made due with the outside shower under the back deck. Foggy took a little longer to comb the snarls out of his long hair than Matt did so he went first. When it was Matt’s turn, Foggy’s hands trembled a bit as the worked at a particularly stubborn knot. It felt wrong staring at the droplets sliding off of Matt’s spectacularly wide shoulders without the blind boy being able to tell. Not for the first time, his cock stirred in his trunks.

The next couple of days went by too quickly. They’d just settled into a nice routine of sci-fi movies and heading to the beach when Foggy realized that they were going home the next day. He’d never been so sad to see the Fourth of July as he was that morning. He sullenness must have made it to the surface because Matt asked him about after they had finished breakfast.

“Are you feeling okay?” he inquired as they changed into their trunks in the room they shared.

Shoving tourist trap t-shirt over his head, Foggy shrugged then rolled his eyes. “Just shrugged,” he announced blandly. “Anyway, I just realized that this is our last day here. Kinda bums me out.”

Matt’s shoulders sagged. “I know.”

“Well, then,” Foggy said, forcing himself to be a little happier, “let’s make it a good day.”

Neither Foggy nor Matt complained that morning when the girls found a couple of meat heads to spend their last day with. They ended up splashing for just a bit in the waters before finding an old school arcade on the boardwalk. Foggy—as well as quite a few spectators—had been more than a bit skeptical when Matt asked for help lining up to the holes at the ski-ball machine. Keeping his thoughts on that one to himself, he did as he was asked and then took his place at the lane next to Matt.

“Ten bucks says I get a higher score,” Matt boasted with the signature Murdock cockiness written on his face.

“Uh, I may suck at this game, but I am pretty sure seeing gives me an unfair advantage on this one, buddy,” Foggy replied with a laugh.

That brow of his raised even higher. “Really? So you’re gonna take me up on the bet then?”

“I am so going to take money from a blind guy. Don’t even think I’ll go easy on you,” he warned.

In the end, Matt won by a measly hundred points. He didn’t even try to hide his amusement as he folded the bill over a few times before tucking it into his wallet. It took a good deal of pestering from Foggy for Matt to finally admit that ski-ball and bowling had been common for the outings he’d gone on at NYS.

“You hustled me, Murdock,” Foggy cried with mock indignation as they settled on to a bench with a couple of ice creams—paid for with the same ten Foggy had lost, so he couldn’t bitch too much.

Matt didn’t try to argue the fact and instead licked around the base of his melting ice cream cone. “Should’ve gotten a bowl,” he muttered as he wiped away a stray bit of vanilla from his cheek. “You won’t let me walk around with food all over the place, will you?”

“I totally should after you just took advantage of me,” Foggy snarked. “Seriously, what other talents are you hiding?”

“I’m pretty good at HORSE if there’s an audible hoop,” the blind man replied with obvious pride. “Not as good as I am at beep baseball.”

“You and baseball...I swear, I never understood that one.” Foggy finished his cone first and leaned back with his arms resting on the back of the bench. His right arm was close to looping around Matt’s shoulders, but he resisted the urge. “Clearly, hockey is the superior sport.”

“I tried playing a time or two at school. I seriously sucked, and the only position they ever put me in was goal,” Matt complained. There was a bit of ice cream at the corner of his lips, but his tongue reached out for it before Foggy could comment on it.

“Next you’re gonna tell me they had you driving sprint cars or something,” Foggy joked, trying to ignore the tightness in his crotch after watching Matt licking his lips.

“Rock climbing,” Matt offered with a wide grin. “And I found a group that does tandem sky dives upstate, but I had to wait until I turned eighteen for that. Dad actually went with me. It was great! You should try it.”

Foggy laughed uncomfortably. “You only think it’s great because you can’t look down. You know… Actually, I take that back. You are exactly the kind of nut that would enjoy it either way.”

“I’ll get you to go with me someday.” Matt’s confident smile made it pretty clear that he meant it.

“How about another bet?” Foggy suggested.

“Oh?”

“You graduate with a higher GPA the whole way through law school, and I will go skydiving with you,” the older boy said firmly.

Cocky fucker that he was, Matt’s smile didn’t waiver one bit. He held out his hand. “Done.”

The only awkward moment of the day came a little later when Foggy was watching Matt shift his sunglasses on his nose. Again, the lack of a filter from his brain kicked in and his mouth moved too quick to be stopped. “Those glasses make you look like a douche.”

Matt ran a finger along the top rim, and Foggy felt like such a bastard. “I kinda thought they might,” he admitted, frowning. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“Candace likes to remind me that I have exactly zero style. Don’t listen to me. I’m sorry I said anything,” Foggy apologized.

Matt’s frown deepened. “I trust you and your style. I wish you would have told me.”

“Sorry. Wanna stop back in the gift shop?” Foggy managed to suggest rather than saying that Matt was wrong to trust his style—which probably would have been the honest move. While Matt might not have a clear idea of what “cool” looked like, the fact that he still trusted Foggy meant something. He regretted not saying something sooner.

They made their way back to the same gift shop where they’d bought the first ones, and Matt began trying pair after pair on. None of them worked the way Foggy was hoping for. He really was shit at picking out clothes and things like that, but he was trying. Finally, he grabbed what he guessed was his last ditch effort at helping. They were a red tinted pair with round lenses. He only grabbed them because they were the very last pair on the row. No one looked good in Beatles glasses, but the second Matt slid them on, something about them just worked. The color highlighted the bit of red hidden in Matt’s dark hair and contrasted with his pale skin while the shape didn’t take away from his high cheeks and perfectly formed brows. Matt was that one weirdo that somehow _did_ look good in Beatles glasses.

Matt gave a self-deprecating grin. “That bad?”

“No. They look good on you,” Foggy answered honestly. “Great, actually. Better than the pair you lost.”

Matt moved to grab his wallet from his pocket, but Foggy grabbed his hand. “My treat,” he said when Matt began to protest. “At least let me make up for being an asshole.”

That evening they had to dodge invites from both Foggy’s parents and the girls. Fireworks were going to be set off all along the coast and there were dozens of parties and picnics on the sand to choose from. Rather than tag along with either group, Foggy and Matt opted to hang out on the back porch with a pizza and a couple of beers. At first Foggy was uncomfortable giving Matt a beer even, but then he remembered that he hadn’t been much older himself when his dad started letting him have a beer or two with the family.

After their meal, they settled side by side on the glider with frosty bottles in hand. Below them, there were kids playing and running back and forth in the sand. Foggy watched them idly, and beside him, Matt seemed content listening to the waves and gulls. The sunset sent glimmers of light over his new glasses, and Foggy thought he could have been content to sit like that for the rest of his life, but night set in and there was a flurry of activity on the beach below them.

“What’s going on down there?” Matt asked, curiously.

Foggy reluctantly turned his eyes back to the beach. “The kids must be getting restless. They’re lighting sparklers. It looks like they’re having a great time.”

“I remember those,” Matt said wistfully. “I used to try to write my name in the air with them.”

“I did that too.”

A few minutes later the real show began. Matt jumped a little when the first _boom_ cut through the air followed by crackling pops. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards as another one went off. Foggy was about to suggest they go inside, but Matt had other ideas. “What color are they?” he asked.

For the next hour, Foggy found himself describe each glittering light that crossed the sky. From the red star bursts to the gold pinwheels, he didn’t leave out a single detail. Each description earned him another smile, and he’d have gladly gone on all night. Matt pulled off his glasses after a while and tucked them in his pocket. He leaned his head back, listening to Foggy’s words blissfully. Foggy wished the fireworks could go on endlessly so he could continue to describe them for Matt. The grand finale was a shower of blue stars, accented with red and white swirls that dropped magnificently from the dark sky and shimmered over the night time waves. When it was over, only smoke and the scent of sulfur hung in the air. It took a moment for the sky to clear enough for the star and moon to take over again. Foggy even described those to Matt as well.

“It’s a crescent moon tonight,” he said in a hushed tone, “but it’s really bright.”

“I wish I remembered the moon better,” Matt commented. He almost never made doleful statements about his blindness. His tone wasn’t all that sad, but it still made Foggy wish he could give even just a moment or two of his sight to Matt.

“I wish I could help,” Foggy said, laying hand on the back of Matt’s arm. Matt immediately covered that hand with his own and wove their fingers together light. He’d always been a tactile guy as long as Foggy’d known him, but this was new. New but not unwanted.

“Mind if I ask for something else instead?”

Right then, Foggy doubted he could have denied Matt anything. “Sure,” his voice sounded a little shaky to his own ears, and he hoped Matt didn’t pick up on it.

“Remember when I touched your face back when I was still in O and M?” Matt asked.

Foggy did remember. He’d only been watching Matt for a few weeks then. It had been a therapy day for the kid, and his therapist had urged him to get used to familiarizing himself with people by touch—to use his fingers to “see” the people he loved. He’d blushed and stammered like crazy when he’d asked Foggy about it back then. Foggy could still recall how strange it had felt to have those tiny fingers running over his features. Back then it had been odd and even a bit disconcerting, and Foggy couldn’t exactly say how he felt about it now.

Before he could let his brain talk him out of letting Matt touch him, Foggy lifted Matt’s hand to his own jaw. He could swear he felt Matt’s hands tremble just a little as they ghosted along Foggy’s jaw and up to his ears. This certainly didn’t feel the same as it had all those years ago. Foggy had to force himself to stay still as Matt’s fingers wound through his loose, long hair and then made their way back to his forehead. The touch moved over Foggy’s brow, and he shut his eyes as soft fingertips grazed the fan of his lashes. When he opened them again, Matt’s face was pulled with concentration, and his sightless hazel eyes moved jerkily as he moved. Foggy’s breath caught when those delicate fingertips touched his goatee and then smoothed along his lips. Matt’s face was so close now that his breath danced over Foggy’s skin. The desire to close the gap between them and kiss Matt was almost maddening. For what felt like forever neither of them moved, but then Matt pulled away.

“Thanks,” he said with a definite quiver in his voice as he slide his glasses back on.

Foggy’s skin felt bereft without Matt’s touch and for once he nodded without telling Matt about it. Somehow, he thought Matt knew though.

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I am so grateful that you guys are sticking with me on this ride. Thank you! Also, don't hate me for giving Foggy a boyfriend in this chapter.

Foggy fell in love three days after starting his internship at Landman and Zack. It wasn’t the kind of slow, gradual fall that left you feeling breathless and happy. It was a brutal drop into new territory and groping to find your way.

He was on his way around the corner to grab another cup of coffee while he was still looking over the file in his hands. It was almost seven in the evening, and there shouldn’t have been anyone in the hallway. There was. Foggy slammed head first against a body that shouldn’t have been there. Cold coffee sloshed all over his files and his shirt. He opened his mouth to swear, but the other person beat him to it.

“SHIT!”

When Foggy looked up from his stained shirt, he was convinced of two things at that precise moment. First, God was a black man. Second, Foggy was staring at the closest thing to a god he’d likely ever see in his life. The guy he’d hit was tall and well muscled with close cropped hair and full, perfect lips framed by a meticulously trimmed goatee. He’d intended to apologize for running into whoever it was he’d hit, but the instant he got a good look at the guy, his mouth went dry and he started gaping like a fish.

Rich, dark eyes stared back at him with concern. “You alright?”

“Uhhhh...yeah…,” Foggy managed to say once his brain was somewhat functioning again.

“Looks like that shirt’s seen better days, though,” the other man said with the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

Foggy shrugged. “Luckily, everyone I have to impress is gone for the day, and I pretty much work alone in a broom closet so...”

The stranger laughed. “Everyone you have to impress?”

“Well, I’d say I’ve already missed the boat on impressing you. I think you can pretty much leave me to my misery,” Foggy quipped. He’d had good looking guys hit on him before and hit had never been anything other than an ego boost for them. As much as he wanted to believe that there had been a glint of flirtation in the other man’s eye a moment earlier, he knew better to hope that it could mean something.

“Only if you don’t let me buy you real coffee to make up for that mess,” he said, holding out his hand with a breathtaking smile. “Sam Wilson.”

Foggy’s head felt a little light as he slipped his hand into Sam’s. “Foggy Nelson. And I think technically I caused that, so shouldn’t I buy you coffee?”

Sam let out a hearty laugh. “If you insist.”

They ended up at a little cafe a few blocks from the office. Foggy did end up paying, but only because he was a hair quicker to grab his wallet.

“I got next time,” Sam said as he pulled out a chair at one of the tiny tables.

“I won’t argue if that happens,” Foggy said, still not quite believing that this amazing looking person could ever want to go out for coffee the first time, let alone a second. He decided not to dwell on the inevitable and plowed on. “So what brought you to Landman and Zack?”

“Character witness in a divorce case,” Sam said with a grimace of distaste. He took a long sip of his coffee. “A guy I know is dumping everything he has into just keeping his visitation rights with his kids. His ex isn’t exactly going to take the high road on this and not use his P.T.S.D against him. Whole thing sucks.”

Foggy nodded sympathetically. “Divorces usually do.”

“Amen to that. Been married before?”

It takes everything Foggy has not to laugh. “I just spent seven and a half years becoming a lawyer. I can’t even keep a commitment to a damn TV show.”

That amazing laugh rolls out of Sam again, and for the first time, Foggy notices small crinkles at the edges of his eyes that probably shouldn’t be there yet. “I spent a lot of time in the Air Force. Believe me, I know all about not being able to make a commitment.”

“What do you do now?”

“Social work for the V.A. It’s not quite as glamorous as being a lawyer who works in a broom closet, but it pays the bills, and I get to do a little good here and there,” he said wryly.

They spent nearly three hours in the cafe that night. It took a very annoyed look from the barrister as she flipped off the open sign to get them to move. They exchanged numbers outside, but for the life of him, Foggy couldn’t think that he’d ever hear from Sam again. He convinced himself that Sam just needed someone to talk to that night. Foggy just happened to be the lucky guy who slammed into him in the hallway. A few days later, Foggy’s phone rang and proved him wrong. After that, things move like a whirlwind.

Sam was funny and witty on top of being to die for beautiful. His heart was so big that Foggy’s pretty sure it could have crushed the whole island of Manhattan. More than just that, he had this innate ability to put people at ease. He could meet someone and somehow know exactly what it was that they needed to hear almost instantaneously. He wasn’t blind to Foggy’s crippling self-doubt or how much he compared himself to others, either, but Sam had a way of holding up a mirror to Foggy that only showed his best qualities. It wasn’t mere speculation or sentiment to say that Sam made Foggy a better man.

Foggy fell so deeply in love that it was impossible not to tell his best friend. After their fourth date, he found himself dialing Matt’s number as he sank into his couch bonelessly. Matt’s reaction was a bit more subdued than Foggy had been hoping.

“How can you be in love with someone you only just met?” Matt asked skeptically from the other end.

“Because I’m convinced that Sam Wilson is the most perfect thing to ever walk this Earth,” Foggy replied wistfully. He knew he sounded like a twelve year old girl, but fuck it. “Matt, I really, really care about this guy. I mean good things don’t happen to me. Sam is a good thing. I’m not going to go over analyzing the shit out of this.”

There was a deep sigh followed by a short silence. “I’m just glad you’re happy, Foggy. More than anyone you deserve it.”

They talked for a couple more minutes before Matt made the excuse that he had to study—which being that Matt was doubling up classes where he could, made sense—but something about it didn’t sit well with Foggy. Ever since Jersey, Matt and Foggy had been closer than they had been in years. Not a week went by that they didn’t talk on the phone or at least email, and they made it a point to meet up at least semi-regularly as their schedules would allow. With the exception of maybe Marci, who he had lived with for years and now worked with at L&Z, there wasn’t anyone who knew Foggy better. The fact that Matt hadn’t sounded all that happy for him grated on a nerve deep down in his gut. After that phone call, they talked a little less. It wasn’t a one way thing either. Matt didn’t call, so therefor Foggy wouldn’t call. His friendship with Matt was the one and only thing that hadn’t flourished since he met Sam.

As weeks turned into months, Foggy began to notice that he’d been sleeping less and less at his own apartment. Somehow, all of his favorite hoodies ended up in Sam’s hamper back in Queens. His fridge in Hell’s Kitchen started to contain nothing more pickles and takeout that he was too afraid to touch. It’s not until Sam and Foggy were lying on the couch one lazy Sunday watching Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoons that they broached the topic of moving in together.

Sam pressed a kiss to Foggy’s temple and very causally said: “I should be charging you rent.”

“If you did, I’d have to get rid of my roach motel,” Foggy replied with a bit of a laugh. He was still an intern and money was on the tight side.

“If that’s what it takes to get you to officially move in… Nelson, you owe me half of next month’s rent,” Sam said. He was laughing too, but Foggy had the sneaking suspicion he really did mean it.

Foggy sat up and looked at Sam, trying to tell if he was just imagining things. He wasn’t. “You’re serious.”

Sam nodded. “In case you haven’t noticed, I kinda like having you around even if you do watch the same shit over and over again.”

“Says the man who’s seen every Rocky movie at least sixteen ba-zillion times.” Foggy leaned back into Sam’s warm arms. “My lease is up in two months. Think you can give me a bit of a reprieve until then?”

“I’ll manage.” Sam pushed aside the heavy fall of blond hair from Foggy’s cheek and kissed him.

Things continued to get better for Foggy. He moved in with Sam in early March, and in less than a month after that, he’s offered the permanent spot at Landman and Zack. Even better Marci also managed to claw her way in. Great job. Amazing boyfriend. Foggy was living in some sort of paradise. Then he got a call from Jack Murdock one rainy morning.

As it turns out, Foggy wasn’t the only one who’d had some big time changes in his life. Matt had also met someone, a girl who Jack described as a rich, little hell-brat. His grades had been slipping, and Jack saw next to nothing of his son for days if not weeks on end at a time. They were supposed to meet up to go to mass on Ash Wednesday, but Matt never showed—something they both agreed wasn’t like Matt at all. Now, he wouldn’t even pick up the phone when Jack called.He was at his absolute wit’s end over what to do. Calling Foggy had pretty much been his last resort. After the call, Sam warned him about getting in the middle of family shit with friends. It sounded like Sam had experience in the matter, but Foggy couldn’t help himself. Matt needed help, and the fact that he didn’t realize it didn’t exactly register.

A sense of deja-vu swept over Foggy as he walked up the steps Matt’s down building. It wasn’t all that long ago that Foggy had been there for a Star Trek night—maybe six months ago? No one really seemed to notice him until he got to the door and then realized that he had no way to get in. A couple of students walked out, giving him a look on their way by, but the door shut too quickly behind them for Foggy to grab it. Thankfully, the next person to go in was a little slower about it, and he was able to slip through. Foggy stood at the door for a long time before he gathered up the courage to knock. His gut told him that he wasn’t going to like what he saw on the other side of the door. When he did knock, he was grateful to hear a muffled voice on the other side.

“Who is it?”

“James Fucking Tiberius Kirk. Open the fucking door, Murdock,” Foggy commanding, sounding a hell of a lot angrier than he’d intended but somehow less angry than he felt.

To Foggy’s amazement, the door did open. Any happiness he felt at that ended the second it swung wide enough for Foggy to get a look at Matt’s face. Both of his eyes were shadowed by deep purple and yellow bruises and the whole left side of his face looked swollen and painful. Foggy’s heart lept to his throat. “Jesus,” he said softly.

“I would say it looks worse than it feels, but that’s probably a lie,” Matt snarked. He moved just far enough out of the way to let Foggy slide by.

“What happened?” Foggy asked, taking a seat on the edge of Matt’s futon.

Matt shrugged before gingerly making his way to the other end. “It’s a long story, but I’m fine.”

“Like hell you’re fine,” Foggy spat. “I’m not going to just let you brush this off, Matt. What the hell happened? I don’t care if it takes you all day to tell me.”

“Elektra pissed off the wrong person. His goons apparently won’t hit a woman so...” Matt made a vague gesture to his face.

“Christ, did you call the cops?” Foggy’s stomach felt sick.

Matt shakes his head. “I think she stole money from them. To be honest, I’m not sure what she did, but it didn’t seem like a good idea to kick that particular hornets nest at the moment. I did go to the ER, if that makes you feel any better. It’s mostly superficial, and despite their best intentions, my ribs and cheekbone are only cracked.”

“God damn,” was the only thing Foggy could say. He prompted his elbows on his knees and hung his head, trying to think of something else. “Why’d she steal the money?”

Matt let out a humorless chuckle. “Who knows? With Elektra, you never know what she’s going to do or why. She stole a car the first night I met her. The next morning, her father sent someone to pick it up where we left it, cut a check, and then that was that. There aren’t any consequences for her. I don’t know if there ever have been.”

“There sure as fuck were consequences for you,” Foggy seethed. “Matt, you know better. Why would you even consider for a second that hanging around someone like her would be a good idea? You’ve worked so fucking hard to get where you are. And now what? You just let her drag you down? Why?”

“Because I’m tired, Foggy,” Matt replied shakily. He stood up and paced a few feet back and forth like a lion in a cage. “I’m so tired of having to be careful...of having to be better just to be equal. Elektra never treated me any different. She didn’t give a fuck if I couldn’t see. She’d just walk off in the middle of a crowded bar and leave me there, expecting me to find my own way out.”

“That’s fucked up.” Foggy rubbed at his aching head.

“Is it? If I didn’t ask for help, she sure as shit wasn’t going to give it. I’m a grown man, and people walk on eggshells around me every day of my life. Not Elektra. If I wasn’t going to tell her I needed or wanted something, she wasn’t going out of her way to do it. Maybe that’s just another part of her narcissist tendencies, but it felt good to have just a little bit of fucking autonomy,” Matt said with a dark look on his face.

“So not wanting to see you walk out into traffic is the wrong answer, and because this psychopath was willing to let you, she’s automatically the good guy?” Foggy demanded icily. “You know what? Fuck you then.”

“Foggy...” Matt began, but Foggy didn’t want to hear it.

“No, Matt! You want me to treat you like an adult. Here it is: go fuck yourself. Your dad is a mess right now worrying about you. You dropped me like a god damned hot potato. Your classes are probably miles ahead of you now. Because something felt good, you let the rest of your life around it go to shit. Now, you want to sit here and justify being an asshole because maybe we care about you and overreact sometimes.” Foggy shook his head and sighed. “You want autonomy? Autonomously un-fuck this situation and then talk to me.”

Behind him, Matt was calling his name, but Foggy was too pissed to listen. He slammed the door and headed out of the dorm like a bat out of hell.

That day was a turning point of sorts. He no longer even tried to call Matt and buried whatever remained of his friendship for him in the deepest part of his brain. If he were completely honest with himself, he’d admit that deep down, he was hurting like hell. Not only had Matt chosen to follow some crazy bitch on her joyride into shits-burgh, but he didn’t it because there was something that she offered him that Foggy never had. It was an irrational jealousy. Then again, when were people’s emotions all that rational? In the end, it just seemed like something that he wasn’t ready to deal with. So he tossed the box deep in a closet somewhere and tossed away the proverbial key.

He focused on his career. Working at Landman and Zack was like taking an express elevator. He didn’t have time to stress about what he past on the way up. Now and again something in the back of his mind prickled, reminding him that something may or may not be off in the firm, but he ignored it. He was winning case after case. Clients were actually starting to ask for him. _For him._ Franklin Nelson, attorney at law, was making a name for himself. Life just kept getting better.

And then it all crashed down…

Unlike what happened with Matt, the mess that came to his office couldn’t be swept under the rug. Federal agents stormed the building. The partners were led out in cuffs. There were inquiries and investigations. Audits of every fucking move that had ever been made inside the glass and steel tower of Landman and Zack. Many of Foggy’s colleagues were either being disbarred or being indited. Being the newest lawyers in the firm, Foggy and Marci both hadn’t been drug into the full scale of illegal activities. Neither of them faced any legal repercussions—for which they were both eternally grateful. Still, they were both unemployed. The stain on their reputations outweighed almost any good standing they’d earned. Foggy found himself not even getting a first interview more often than not, let alone a second. He wanted to crawl into some kind of deep abyss and never crawl back out.

Thankfully, there was Sam through it all. Sweet, supportive, wonderful Sam. He was always there to rub Foggy’s shoulders and offer words of encouragement as he scoured job listings and fretted over his bank account. Through it all, Foggy felt his love for Sam deepening. He’d never been able to really depend on anyone like that before, never had to. How could he not love Sam? How could he not want to do everything and anything he could to return the favor?

Foggy was surprised to get a phone call a couple months after the Landman and Zack crisis from ‘she-who-must-not-be-named.’ He didn’t often hear from his estranged, biological mother. As a kid, she used to send him birthday and Christmas cards with crisp hundred dollar bills, but he’d never met her in person. His parents hadn’t exactly encouraged contact between the two of them. The first time he spoke to her on the phone was the morning he graduated law school. She’d offered a stilted congratulations and a lip-service offer of guidance but nothing else. After that, it had only been radio silence on both ends. He could barely believe it when she suggested a brunch meeting.

Growing up, Foggy hadn’t understood who Rosalind Sharpe was until he was in his early teens. His dad always brushed it off. He’d said that Rosalind was just an old friend who liked children. When the truth came out, it was devastating. Foggy was a mistake—the culmination of his dad cheating on his mom for a one night fling with a law student. He hadn’t been wanted. His mom wasn’t really even his mom. To a thirteen year old, it had been a lot to process. His parents took him to a therapist for a while, and things slowly came into focus after that. His father had made a mistake, true, but Foggy was most certainly wanted. His mom was still his mom. Both she and his dad loved him more than anything. Still, even as an adult, Foggy had a lot of issues when it came to his biological mother. Meeting her was probably the most uncomfortable thing he’d ever faced.

He was able to spot her the instant he entered the restaurant. Not because he looked like her or any sort of natural pull bullshit, but because he had Googled her. Rosiland ‘Razor’ Sharp was a one woman tour d’ force in the world of corporate law. She made more in on month than his parents probably made in two years. But even if he hadn’t seen her picture on a dozen articles, he had a feeling he still could have picked her out of a crowd. Her reputation and appearance perfectly aligned in that way that so few people’s actually did. She was taller than Foggy by a good inch or so even without her designer heels, and her thin frame was elegantly appointed in clothes that even Foggy could guess were couture. Midnight black hair was swept up into an elegant twist with only a bit of silver softening the effect it had on her stone-like features. This woman was as different from his short, plump, loving mom back in Hell’s Kitchen as could be. Even from a distance, he didn’t like her.

When he approached, she held out her hand. “Franklin,” she said evenly without warmth.

“Ms. Sharpe,” he returned, not quite sure what the hell to call her.

They took their seats and ordered quickly. The whole time, her icy blue eyes watched him. He even got the feeling she was judging him as he asked for eggs Florentine—the only thing on the menu that sounded even remotely edible to him. He alternately was relieved and terrified the second the waiter left their table.

“I’ll get right to the point,” she began. “I saw your name among those scrambling for cover in the whole Landman and Zack nightmare. I’m quite disappointed, actually. You should have taken up my offer of assistance after you passed the bar, not gotten yourself mixed up in the rabble.”

He nearly spat coffee across the table at how she called a multi-billion dollar firm ‘rabble’ and seemed to mean it, but he kept himself mostly composed. “I didn’t want to intrude. Besides, Landman and Zack had a great reputation.”

Rosalind ran a finger over the edge of her coffee cup. “Did they?”

“So you saw it coming?” Foggy asked, letting a bit of sarcasm through.

“It was inevitable. They were always interested in the short game, Franklin. You’d do well to remember that the short game comes with short cuts and short changes,” she chided him with a bit of a smile. “Coming to me then would have been much less of an imposition than you’ve created now.”

“I didn’t ask for anything,” he muttered coldly. He was about five seconds away from getting up and walking away from the table.

Something unreadable flashed over her face just then. “I know,” she said softly. “It doesn’t change the fact that you’ll have a meeting with Jeri Hogarth of Hogarth, Chao, and Benowitz this Thursday.”

“You...you got me a job?” Foggy stammered.

The waiter chose that exact moment to bring their food. Rosalind looked slightly amused at his surprise, but waited until they were alone again to reply.

“No,” she corrected. “I got you a meeting. You’re going to get yourself a job. I’ve known Jeri long enough to know that she wouldn’t hire you just because I asked—not even if I threw in a favor or two. All I did was show her your resume and make a few well placed comments about how there were a few rats worth pulling of the S.S. Landman and Zack’s wreckage. I didn’t even need to bring up our...connection.”

Foggy poked at his eggs. “Why?”

“Because occasionally, I do things just because I want to.” Again that strange look crossed her face. It almost looked like regret. Maybe there was even a bit of caring in there.

Rosalind spent the rest of the meal drilling Foggy on what to say and what not to say when he met Ms. Hogarth. She dissected everything from the way he held his utensils to the slightly worn cuff of his suit jacket. In the end, she even set him up with a tailor. The bills were to be sent to her, and someday she assured him, she would call in a favor from him in repayment.

“In the legal world—particularly New York—a favor can be worth more than just a check,” she told him with the first real smile he’d seen since he met her.

When they were ready to say goodbye, Foggy gave into the temptation to ask a question that had been plaguing him since he was a teenager. He looked around the room to make sure that no one was in ear shot.

“Why have me and then just give me up? Why not just take care of things and move on with your life?” he asked solemnly.

For a long moment, she didn’t answer. Just sat there and stared at him. “Because you shouldn’t have to pay for things that were my fault.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek before she turned to go. “If you find yourself in trouble again, call my office. My assistant will make sure I get the message.”

Foggy made it the whole way back to their apartment before he curled into a ball in Sam’s arms and dissolved into tears. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure why he was crying. It’s not like he had any real expectations for their meeting. His conscious mind hadn’t considered that maybe she would have divulged that maybe even just a tiny bit she had wanted him. He cried until his stomach was sick and his eyes felt like sandpaper. But when he was done, it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

As fate would have it, Sam was in Washington for a business trip the day Foggy met with Jeri Hogarth, so he wasn’t there to hear the good news in person. Foggy called him the second he was officially told they’d hire him—on a probational basis, of course. He probably looked deranged as he all but danced down the busy street with a phone pressed to his ear. Sam was elated, too, but there was an edge to his voice that Foggy just couldn’t place. He was taking the next flight our of D.C. that evening, and there’d be plenty of time to celebrate once he got home, Foggy had reasoned. Only when Sam opened the door and dropped his things, there was something in his body language that Foggy knew didn’t bode well.

“They approved the program,” Sam answered softly when Foggy asked what was wrong.

At first, it didn’t register with Foggy what the problem was. Sam had been championing a peer-to-peer program through the V.A. to help soldiers with P.T.S.D transition back into civilian life since before he’d met Foggy. The idea wasn’t all that revolutionary really, but it included a lot more family support and the inclusion of homeopathic treatments in addition to the V.A.’s usual go-to medications. How could it be a bad thing that they’d approved the program? Then it hit Foggy.

“They want you to start in D.C.?” Foggy asked.

Sam nodded with a sad smile. “They’ve pretty much given me an open hand with this, Foggy. Anytime the government is involved at all, that never happens—especially not when it comes down to helping the men and women they put in harm’s way. This is something really incredible. I could help a lot of people.”

“You could,” Foggy agreed. Tears were already burning in his eyes, because he knew what was coming. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“More than anything.” Sam’s own eyes looked a bit watery, but he was better at holding things together than Foggy was. “I don’t know what Washington would be like for you. I don’t even know what all it would take to get you practicing down there. I know asking you to leave New York is a lot...today more than ever, probably. But I can’t _not_ go, Foggy, and I can’t _not_ ask you to come with me.”

They ended things amicably. There wasn’t any fighting or even the slightest bit of arguing between them. In hindsight, that made it a million times worse. If Sam had been an asshole or even just a bit terrible about any of it, Foggy would have felt better. As it was, he just felt selfish and hollow. Sam made his choice because he could help people. Foggy made his choice because he was helping himself. To exacerbate the point, Sam was the first person to tell Foggy that he had to do right by himself. He didn’t blame Foggy for any of it. The morning Sam left, Foggy was such a chicken shit that he couldn’t bring himself to go to the airport. He said his goodbyes at the doorway of their apartment.

It was a miracle that Foggy managed to pick himself up off the floor enough to make it to his first day at HCB. The secretary they’d assigned to the junior partners—a blonde named Karen Page—probably thought he was a complete dick because as she helped him settle in he barely said five words. Jeri was giving him the sink or swim treatment and already had a minor case waiting for him that same day. Foggy read the file, barely letting a single word sink through the haze of his mind. He was just about to leave his new and unfamiliar desk for lunch when a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” he called, while vainly wishing he could pretend he wasn’t there at all.

Karen cracked the door enough so that only her face showed. “Mr. Nelson, someone’s here to see you,” she said with the corners of her mouth twitching slightly.

“You can call me ‘Foggy’, Karen,” he reminded her lightly. “And I’m not exactly ready for a client meeting today.”

Karen bobbed her head and grinned. “I don’t think he’s a client.”

The door opened further to reveal Matt standing there with a whole bouquet of strangely shaped purple flowers. At first, all Foggy could do was stare. Matt was there with his face unbruised, looking slightly like a suitor in some stupid romance movie. He looked so familiar and so damned good. Foggy couldn’t help the relief that surged through his body.

“Is this a bad time?” Matt asked, a little nervously.

Foggy shook his head. “Just shook my head,” he said with a bit of a laugh. “And no, it’s not a bad time.”

Matt smiled and took a few tentative steps forward with his cane in hand.

“About seven feet dead ahead to a chair,” Foggy said, resisting his natural urge to cross the room and steer Matt safely into said chair.

“I’ll go get you guys some coffee,” Karen offered.

Both men muttered their thanks while Matt made his way to the desk and held out the flowers. He waited until the door closed behind Karen before speaking. “I asked the florist what flowers said: sorry for being a dick.”

Foggy couldn’t help the laughter that burst through his chest. “Purple ones, apparently.”

“Are they purple? She just said they were hyacinthes. They do smell nice, though,” Matt added with his most charming smile.

“They do,” Foggy said, accepting the gift. “They’re the best smelling ‘sorry for being a dick’ flowers I’ve ever gotten.”

Karen returned a minute later with a tray of coffee and a vase filled with water. She gave Foggy a quick wink before scurrying off with the excuse that she had paper work to catch up on.

“I really am sorry for being a dick,” Matt said with a frown. “And I’m sorry it took me so long to get my head out of my ass. I had a hell of a time...how did you put it?… un-fucking things. I hurt my dad, and I hurt you. I just hope you’ll accept my apology.”

“Gladly,” Foggy answered. The quickness the word came to his lips surprised him, but it just felt right.

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Matt was the world’s worst friend in the history of ever. Foggy decided this the day Matt got his results from the bar. The smug look on his face when he presented Foggy with his GPA’s and bar score was just about disgusting. Foggy may have beaten Matt’s totals in his undergrad studies, but Matt had graduated summa cumlaude to Foggy’s cumlaude. The asshole didn’t waste a single second telling Foggy that he’d already booked their jump slot for sky diving. Yes, Matt was one shitty friend, in deed.

They scheduled their jump for the week before Matt was to begin his own internship and while there was a lull in the constant crazy that was life at HCB for Foggy. At first, Foggy thought Jack—who actually went on to get his certification for skydiving after his first jump with Matt—would be coming along. He’d been a bit surprised that the retired boxer was sitting this one out, but even more so when Matt told him that his dad would be spending that same weekend with a woman he’d met recently. Still, Foggy didn’t mind that it was going to be just him and Matt on their little adventure. He knew that with Matt’s internship on the horizon their time together was going to be even more limited than it already had been. The idea of spending one last full weekend pretending that they weren’t adults yet sounded great. Foggy had even splurged and footed the bill for three days at a lakeside cabin near the skydiving school.

Matt had planned their weekend so that they did the skydiving bit first. He’d been laughing his ass off when he said it was so that Foggy couldn’t chicken out of the jump. They arrived at the airfield early on the morning of their first full day of the trip. Foggy had intentionally had little to drink and made sure to pee about a dozen times before they even started the short training session. As it turned out, Foggy was paired with a middle aged professional skydiver named Bill for his first tandem jump. The guy seemed nice enough, but was utterly perplexed when Foggy refused to even entertain the idea of pulling the cord and navigating he chute himself.

By the time they made it up in the air, Foggy’s whole body was wracked with fear. He couldn’t believe that he was actually going to do this. His face must have given away his nerves because Bill asked twice if he was okay. Beside him, Matt looked as happy and as at ease as if he was going for a stroll through Central Park. The thought of backing out in front of Matt was too much to bear, and both times, Foggy nodded that he was okay to go through with it. The actual moment came much quicker than Foggy would have liked, but the second they stepped out of the plane was unlike anything else he’d ever experienced.

Free falling was almost like being weightless. It was so much more than just the feel of ‘oh shit, I’m falling to my death’ that Foggy had expected. He could feel the blood in his veins pumping faster than ever before. The whoosh of air in Foggy’s ears was strangely pleasant even. The whole experience was almost euphoric. When he landed, the only negative he could think of was that he didn’t pull the chute himself.

Bill clapped him on the back as they unhooked. “You’ll do it yourself next time.”

The funny part about that statement was that Foggy didn’t even argue that there wasn’t going to be a next time.

Matt landed a minute or two after Foggy did. His hair was tousled, and his cheeks were flushed. It’s probably the happiest Foggy’s ever seen him. Happy Matt Murdock was seriously the most beautiful thing that Foggy had ever seen. Foggy had pretty much restrain himself from crossing the short distance between them and kissing Matt hard enough to knock them both over.

“How was it?” Matt called out to Foggy as his instructor disconnected the harness.

“Amazing,” Foggy admitted. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you are an asshole for cashing in on that bet.”

Matt’s smile did the impossible and widened even further. “I knew you’d love it.”

They ate a huge late lunch/early dinner at a nice-ish restaurant near the airfield that had a view of the planes coming in to land. Foggy ordered enough food to feed an army to make up for eating next to nothing that morning, and it made Matt laugh. With the sun setting behind him and his eyes crinkled endearingly with amusement, Matt once again took Foggy’s breath away. He felt the definite stirrings of something he’d been trying to hide since that night back in Jersey when they almost kissed.

He must have been quiet too long, because Matt’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Foggy answered a little too quickly. He forced himself to stare at the edges of his linen napkin. Even though Matt couldn’t see him, it was hard to lie when Matt was ‘looking’ right at him. “I’m just thinking about Sam. He used to tell me about how amazing it was to do non-combat jumps, too. I’m sorry I didn’t believe either of you.”

A strange look crossed Matt’s face at the mention of Sam, but Foggy brushed it off. “I’m just glad that I got to be the one to convince you to do it the first time,” Matt said with a smirk. Foggy knew better but it sounded an awful lot like an innuendo. Just as Foggy was about to completely disregard that thought as well, Matt held his hand across the table. They’d held hands only a few times including that magical night back on the Jersey shore. Maybe it was more than just coincidence or Foggy reading too much into things.

They ended up back at the cabin that night with a bottle of expensive wine that had been a gift to Foggy from a client. He couldn’t even pronounce the name on the label properly so all he knew about it was that it was Italian and red—something that Matt found endlessly amusing. Foggy was so flustered with his inability to be classy that he unwittingly agreed to join Matt in the hot tub. They changed while the wine breathed. (Even Foggy knew that red wine needed to breathe. He wasn’t a complete heathen.) Foggy was the first one changed, so he poured them each a glass that was probably more like two in the fishbowl sized glasses from the cabin cupboards.

When Matt reappeared, he was wearing tight, short swim trunks that only barely counted as trunks rather than a speedo. In the years since Jersey, Matt had put on weight in the form of muscle mass. His form was a good bit bulkier but no less enticing. Foggy couldn’t help appreciating the way Matt’s ass had filled out. Snapping himself from his trance, Foggy pushed a glass of wine into Matt’s hand.

“I thought you were going to be in there primping forever,” he teased.

Matt shrugged and took a sip of his wine. “God, this is good,” he said in approval.

Foggy took a sip. It just tasted like red wine to him—strong, slightly bitter, and only a little fruity—but if Matt liked it, it could have tasted like piss and he would have been happy. He took a quick picture of the label with his phone to save for a later date.

The cabin’s hot tub was perched on the edge of the back deck overlooking the lake. Above them, the sky was a deep shade of blue with a heavy smattering of shining stars. Birds and cicadas made their presence known noisily from out in the darkened trees.

Matt settled into the water first with a sharp hiss as the hot water surrounded him. Foggy set his glass in the holder behind him and then followed suit. He was sure to put as much distance between them as possible. Thankfully the hot tub was big enough for probably seven or eight people, giving him an ample buffer to keep himself from doing something stupid. He watched as Matt slid off his glasses, setting them behind him, and a thought hit him.

“I can’t believe you’ve kept the same pair of glasses since Jersey, and that they’re still in good enough shape to wear,” Foggy mused, thinking back to the second Matt had slipped them on.

Matt let out a bit of an uneasy laugh. “I may or may not have had Dad help me look up the brand and model number so I could order them in bulk when I got home. Actually, I think I still have at least a dozen pairs still in the box.”

“Why would you do that?” Foggy asked. Once again, his mouth was far quicker than his brain.

“You really haven’t figured that out yet?” Matt wondered softly, biting his lower lip. He waded across the hot tub and sat beside Foggy. They were so close that their shoulders brushed. “I keep telling myself that you know and just aren’t interested.”

Foggy’s head was spinning, and it had nothing to do with the wine. “I… I… Uh, I wouldn’t say that I’m not interested. More just confused. I mean, you’re my best friend, and I didn’t want to read into anything that wasn’t really there.”

“Oh, it’s there all right! I had a little bit of a crush on you when I was a kid, even, but that Fourth of July back in Jersey… I fell in love with you, Foggy. I’ve tried to tell myself that I could see you just as a friend, but I can’t.” Matt let out a nervous laugh. “Maybe I’m screwing everything up, and I understand if you don’t see me like that but I wanted you to know.”

Words just wouldn’t come. Foggy’s throat felt tight, and a million emotions were swirling in his stomach and head. Moving on instinct, he did the only thing that felt right just then. He leaned in and kissed Matt. At first, it was a gentle, slow kiss, but then Matt cupped his jaw lightly and pulled him in deeper. Kissing Matt was probably the most perfect moment Foggy could think of, and his head was still reeling from the sensation when they separated. Matt was wearing a sappy grin, and Foggy probably was, too.

“Better than I’d imagined,” Matt murmured contentedly.

“Matt, I… I feel like an idiot. I mean, I didn’t think you thought about me like that at all. It wasn’t that I didn’t see you that. True, there were a lot of times I _did_ look at you like that, but you’re so much younger. And God, I babysat you as a kid… and… and… I’m rambling like a dumb ass,” Foggy admitted. He laughed and shook his head. “You wanted to kiss me that night in Jersey, didn’t you?”

Matt nodded. “Well, actually, I wanted you to kiss me. I was just so nervous, and the whole week you were still kind of treating me like a kid.” When Foggy began to sputter, Matt held up a hand. “Okay, now I understand that eighteen pretty much is a kid, especially to a guy in his mid-twenties, but I didn’t feel like a kid then. I wanted to you to take me seriously, but you didn’t… Then you know everything with Sam and Elektra…”

“And everything comes into focus about four years later,” Foggy drawled. “Think you can forgive me?”

“That depends,” Matt replied with a wolfish grin.

“On?”

“If you’re going to kiss me again.”

Foggy wasted no time in doing just that. Now that he wasn’t in complete shock, he even wrapped his arms around Matt’s waist. Matt let out a small sound of surrender as he let himself be pulled between Foggy’s thighs. Feeling bold, Foggy let his hands wander down to grip Matt’s firm, round ass. Long, talented fingers worked at the ties holding up Foggy’s trunks, but he was too far gone to even try and think rationally as Matt’s hand tentatively surrounded his cock. Foggy let out a moan and dropped his head into the crook of Matt’s neck.

“I’ve been dying for this,” Matt murmured breathlessly, as his fingers began to move.

All Foggy could do was let out a choked sound that had intended to be words of some sort. Matt’s hand felt too damn good for him to even think in complete sentences. His whole world seemed to have shrunk down to just the sensation of Matt touching his cock and Matt’s lips against his. The feeling became more desperate, and his body tightened.

“I’m gonna...” he managed to grind out between waves of pleasure.

Matt nipped at Foggy’s shoulder. “I want you to. Come for me, Foggy,” he commanded.

With a strangled cry, Foggy did just that.

He panted heavily for a long minute with the hot water not exactly helping things. Grabbing his glass of wine, he took a long drink. “That was intense,” he finally managed to say.

Matt grinned at him. “Tell me about it.”

“You didn’t actually...” Foggy trailed off, still slightly out of sorts by the sudden change between them.

Matt nodded, a bit of embarrassment flooding his cheeks as well.

“Fuck,” Foggy swore.

“God, I hope so,” Matt quipped. He laid his head on Foggy’s shoulder and settled back onto the bench beside him.

Foggy laughed and laced his fingers through Matt’s. “You know, this should be weird, but it isn’t.”

“It’s not weird,” Matt agreed.

“I just still can’t believe that I missed it all this time… Almost eight years of me being fucking oblivious. How did you put up with that?” Foggy asked. He was mostly just rambling again.

Matt just smiled and shrugged. “I think maybe it’s a good thing it took so long. God knows, I had a lot shit to figure out. It took me a good long while to grow up. I needed to learn things on my own, and I think maybe you did too. Elektra was a learning experience for me. Even as jealous as I was, I could see that Sam was for you, too. You were more confident after you two got together, but I just didn’t want to see that at the time. Point is, I think everything we lived through was pointing us to this. I know no matter what happened in my life, I always came back to you. I think I always will.”

“God, I love you, Matt.”

They spent the rest of the weekend in the cabin—only leaving when they realized they didn’t have anything to eat. The plans that they had for hiking and an outdoors concert went by the wayside, but neither of them seemed to care. They spent every moment of their time acquainting themselves with this new side to their relationship. Like they had agreed back in the hot tub, it should have been weird between them, but it wasn’t. Being with Matt felt like the most natural thing in Foggy’s life. And despite Matt’s insistence that they probably needed time apart to grow up, Foggy couldn’t stop himself from wondering what would have happened if he and Matt had been the same age when they met. Maybe in another life things would have been different, but ultimately all that mattered was that they were happy here and now.

The morning they were set to leave, Foggy found himself staring at Matt in the pale light streaming through the window. He couldn’t believe that he wasn’t only allowed but encouraged to touch the perfect man beside him. Running his fingers down the valley off Matt’s shoulders lightly, he delighted in the shiver that ran through the younger man. His lips followed the same journey and earned him a soft mewling sound.

“Tease,” Matt sighed a bit breathlessly.

“It’s not a tease if I intend to make good on my promises,” Foggy said, pausing for just a moment.

“But it is a tease! Because if you and I start now, I’ll never want to leave this bed,” Matt said with a chuckle.

The thought of leaving dampened Foggy’s ardor quite a bit, and he reluctantly rolled over and pulled Matt against him whit a sigh. “Fine, but we are picking up right there the instant we get back to the city.”

Matt laughed. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Shit!” Foggy cursed, remembering that they already had plans that evening to have dinner with Jack. He inwardly groaned as he pictured Matt’s dad going full ‘Battlin’ Jack’ on his ass for deflowering his son. (Okay, Matt admittedly hadn’t been a virgin for quite a while, but that was neither here nor there.) “Your dad’s gonna murder me.”

“Wanna make a bet?” the blind man smirked. For the millionth time since they’d met, Foggy marveled that Matt could make cockiness look so good.

“With you, never again,” Foggy said with a laugh. He kissed that mocking brow of Matt’s. “Next thing, you’ll want me to go mountain climbing or some shit.”

“You know a blind climber sumitted Everest a while ago,” Matt offered with a spark in his eyes.

Foggy did the most mature thing he could think of and hit Matt with a pillow.

In the end, it was a damn good thing Foggy didn’t make that bet.

They made just enough of a detour when they hit the city to drop their bags at Foggy’s apartment before heading to the restaurant. Foggy spotted Jack and his new girlfriend at a table on the far side of the room. The woman at his side was much younger than he’d anticipated—late thirties maybe—with warm brown skin long dark hair. Even at a distance, he could spot her warm smile. 

“Dude, your dad’s girlfriend is like our age,” Foggy said earning him a light slap on the arm.

“Claire’s thirty six. Dad’s eleven years older, and it’s all I’ve been hearing about since he met her. I’m just glad he decided to not let an age gap screw him out of something good,” Matt remarked with that look of his.

“Are you trying to imply something here, Murdock?”

“You bet your sweet ass, Nelson.”

When they sat down at the table, Jack gave Foggy a strange look, but didn’t make any comments until they were on their way out after dinner. He looped a brawny arm around each of the younger men. “Did Matty here finally admit that he’s had a thing for you since he was twelve?”

Matt let out an indignant squawk, but Foggy just laughed.

Who knew that taking on a baby sitting job when he was fourteen would end up being the best thing he ever did?

 

 

 

 


End file.
